tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21373561241843060842018-11-19T03:31:02.268-07:00Dr Sock Writes HereDr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.comBlogger275125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-64291047799170610122018-11-02T16:20:00.001-06:002018-11-02T16:20:14.088-06:00The Ribeira District, PortoWe are no longer in Portugal. However, I wanted to write about our visit to Porto in northern Portugal. We went there after visiting Sintra and stayed for two nights in the <a href="https://www.travel-in-portugal.com/porto/ribeira" target="_blank">Ribeira</a> District. This is the old section of Porto along the Douro River. It is a UNESCO World Heritage site, and it is very picturesque.<br /><br />We stayed in a hotel located right on Praça da Ribeira, the old town square down by the quays. We had an amazing view onto the square and the river. Because vehicles other than taxis are prohibited in &nbsp;the old town centre, we had to park the rental car in a shopping centre parkade several blocks away, and parking the car there for two days was fairly expensive. However, that was balanced out by having very walkable streets with little traffic.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wQvDzYh8nYU/W9ySaD3-hKI/AAAAAAAABbI/K7RScBNh1OoyxbYLQ-c5yi7SRVO_whM8wCLcBGAs/s1600/6772B7FB-CA46-4FD9-8D06-182622CB6066.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wQvDzYh8nYU/W9ySaD3-hKI/AAAAAAAABbI/K7RScBNh1OoyxbYLQ-c5yi7SRVO_whM8wCLcBGAs/s400/6772B7FB-CA46-4FD9-8D06-182622CB6066.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />View From our Room <br /><br />As you can see in the photo above, we had a great view from our room.<br /><br />A Boat Tour on the Douro River<br /><br />The first day that we were there, we went on a 50 minute boat tour up and then down the Douro, and saw the six bridges over the Douro that join Porto with the city across the river, Vila Nova de Gaia. It is said that the name of the country, Portugal, derives from the Roman name for this settlement at the mouth of the Douro, Porto Cullis, which may be a derivative of an even earlier place name. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eb9-Ur6uIPo/W9yQLaPY6MI/AAAAAAAABaw/Cty-5c1OgWQ_OZ4rryX86WOC-cmfpOfKwCLcBGAs/s1600/273D419D-5BA4-49B9-97F8-D2178E866E30.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eb9-Ur6uIPo/W9yQLaPY6MI/AAAAAAAABaw/Cty-5c1OgWQ_OZ4rryX86WOC-cmfpOfKwCLcBGAs/s400/273D419D-5BA4-49B9-97F8-D2178E866E30.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Picturesque Porto Along the Douro River<br /><br />From the boat, we were able to get a great view of the colourful neighbourhoods along the river, as well as the bridges, skyline, and many significant buildings and monuments.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-18K59rz4pJU/W9yQLUrsnVI/AAAAAAAABas/JcL4Rlak27wuUxXirzJz-LyohvW6ZvhuwCLcBGAs/s1600/934AEE7C-AAC4-447B-A2A5-38DA665B0DF7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-18K59rz4pJU/W9yQLUrsnVI/AAAAAAAABas/JcL4Rlak27wuUxXirzJz-LyohvW6ZvhuwCLcBGAs/s400/934AEE7C-AAC4-447B-A2A5-38DA665B0DF7.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Enjoying the Boat Tour<br /><br />It was fun to be out on the water on the Douro River, after having been a longtime fan of wines from the Douro Valley. Also, I admit to being a bit of a geography geek. It somehow seems really special to actually see and travel on important rivers around the world. (I have been similarly awed by the Mississippi, the St. Lawrence, the Thames, and the Stikine rivers, to name a few.)<br /><br />Walking Across the Dom Luis I Bridge to Vila Nova de Gaia<br /><br />Later, we walked to the Dom Luis I Bridge and rode the funicular up to the top level of the bridge. This bridge, built by the same company that built the Eiffel Tower in Paris, has a lower level for cars, and an upper level, 60 meters up, for light rapid transit trains. It is possible to walk across the top level of the bridge, which we did. The views from up on the bridge were fantastic, and the height did not bother me too much, except I did hang on to the railing when the trains rushed by and everything vibrated. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yco406JDLi0/W9yNWceKQgI/AAAAAAAABaM/66t8X1yjLFI9G5y4hXOHkipsw78HV1dWgCLcBGAs/s1600/313B239B-C6D0-43D0-A6D4-B79A4C69DA91.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yco406JDLi0/W9yNWceKQgI/AAAAAAAABaM/66t8X1yjLFI9G5y4hXOHkipsw78HV1dWgCLcBGAs/s400/313B239B-C6D0-43D0-A6D4-B79A4C69DA91.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Looking Down into Back Gardens From the Bridge<br /><br />As we started walking across the bridge, we could look down onto the buildings, streets, and gardens on either side.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Wb5qmmsiRC0/W9yNWFabyGI/AAAAAAAABaI/pl-ZJEIFLsQDtkruZXCPx9Sqy24JyDZ0QCLcBGAs/s1600/09314310-0328-4496-B423-6C51812BA237.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Wb5qmmsiRC0/W9yNWFabyGI/AAAAAAAABaI/pl-ZJEIFLsQDtkruZXCPx9Sqy24JyDZ0QCLcBGAs/s400/09314310-0328-4496-B423-6C51812BA237.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />View of the Douro River From the Bridge<br /><br />The photo above shows the view from the bridge looking downriver at the Ribeira quays (Cais da Ribeira).<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P_7rkwqtIcw/W9yNWDS63MI/AAAAAAAABaE/OYAUm0kg6NwohnpHOzGl0SgvajHeiRJegCLcBGAs/s1600/D1185847-02FA-4CBE-AF62-A5866D522EFE.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P_7rkwqtIcw/W9yNWDS63MI/AAAAAAAABaE/OYAUm0kg6NwohnpHOzGl0SgvajHeiRJegCLcBGAs/s400/D1185847-02FA-4CBE-AF62-A5866D522EFE.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br />Dom Luis I Bridge seen from Vila Nova de Gaia<br /><br />I took this photo from the far side of the bridge, looking back at the bridge. If you look very closely, you can see tiny specks on the bridge. The specks are people, which gives some perspective of how high the bridge was.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9-kwuYjVIes/W9yNWv2UzXI/AAAAAAAABaQ/keItXY0kQSgwgy9YYOZCyT2WPJkv11CVQCLcBGAs/s1600/E2A8AFAF-BD70-4956-AB65-7C98DC35AEB2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9-kwuYjVIes/W9yNWv2UzXI/AAAAAAAABaQ/keItXY0kQSgwgy9YYOZCyT2WPJkv11CVQCLcBGAs/s400/E2A8AFAF-BD70-4956-AB65-7C98DC35AEB2.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br />View of Praça da Ribeira from the Bridge <br /><br />This photo from the bridge shows the buildings around the square. Our hotel was the pale yellow one on the far right, next to the deeper yellow one. I can even see the windows of our room.<br /><br />Visiting the Port Caves in Vila Nova de Gaia<br /><br />After crossing the bridge, we rode the Telecabin (gondola) down to the river level and explored sections of Vila Nova de Gaia. This area is famed for its port cellars, or caves. Being on the north side of the river, the caves dug into the hillside remain consistently cool as is needed for aging the port, which can take decades. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w5PviQvuKT0/W9yLEnPNlnI/AAAAAAAABZs/V-EHmOcLA2cqNRTq9VAXICI6TbYDmIgIQCLcBGAs/s1600/9D3F76BC-9646-45ED-A33C-19077837C7EC.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w5PviQvuKT0/W9yLEnPNlnI/AAAAAAAABZs/V-EHmOcLA2cqNRTq9VAXICI6TbYDmIgIQCLcBGAs/s400/9D3F76BC-9646-45ED-A33C-19077837C7EC.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />The Boats that Tradtionally Transported the Port Down the Douro River<br /><br />The photo above shows the type of boats that were used for transporting the port from the vineyards of the Douro Valley down to the port caves where it is aged, bottled, and then shipped all over the world. The port no longer comes down the river on boats, but rather by truck and train. The traditional boats (rabelos) are now used for racing on the river, each boat sponsored by one of the port houses.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0QpB9EHpsXI/W9yLEaO21MI/AAAAAAAABZo/Xa82RS_RWlkA5UwOqFTg4nNnUQ7ljc8bACLcBGAs/s1600/B48C8810-A08F-49E1-A1E9-69195438287C.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0QpB9EHpsXI/W9yLEaO21MI/AAAAAAAABZo/Xa82RS_RWlkA5UwOqFTg4nNnUQ7ljc8bACLcBGAs/s400/B48C8810-A08F-49E1-A1E9-69195438287C.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />At the Port Tasting<br /><br />We did a tour and tasting at one of the port cellars. The photo above shows the three ports we tasted - from the right, a white, then a ruby and then a tawny port. As you may know, Port is a wine that is fortified with aguardente.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AVXrvZi1pK4/W9yLEX3smhI/AAAAAAAABZk/ABv5jfnh5lIIzpfp7k89n0CN9u4ZWVduACLcBGAs/s1600/F8DCF14F-6FA0-42B5-A885-68079059C333.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AVXrvZi1pK4/W9yLEX3smhI/AAAAAAAABZk/ABv5jfnh5lIIzpfp7k89n0CN9u4ZWVduACLcBGAs/s400/F8DCF14F-6FA0-42B5-A885-68079059C333.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br />In Front of an Oak Barrel Used for Aging the Port in the Caves<br /><br />The port is aged in barrels of different sizes, some very large. It was an interesting tour, and I enjoyed tasting three of the types of port made by the Calem port house. <br /><br />Then we walked back across the bridge, this time on the lower level.<br /><br />We were glad that we included a visit to Porto in our tour of Portugal. <br />Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-63146893324694306612018-10-29T04:52:00.001-06:002018-10-29T04:52:40.296-06:00A Visit to Sintra<b>Sintra<br /></b><br />We have been doing a fifteen day tour of Portugal. After five days in Lisbon, we went to to Sintra for two days. The Vila de Sintra is a city in the municipality of Sintra, located in the Sintra Mountains on the west coast. The area is a UNESCO World Heritage Site because of its historical importance. This area just north of Lisbon is also known as the Portuguese Riviera.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0MOgEYARiJw/W9YyA2VoUVI/AAAAAAAABZA/s6SmEglWi7UN2LWaVG0rIgCo71L-81nCgCLcBGAs/s1600/47C01F3A-34E9-4112-9569-A6A3F1BC2553.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0MOgEYARiJw/W9YyA2VoUVI/AAAAAAAABZA/s6SmEglWi7UN2LWaVG0rIgCo71L-81nCgCLcBGAs/s400/47C01F3A-34E9-4112-9569-A6A3F1BC2553.jpeg" width="300" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div><br />We stayed in a small b&b in the town of Sintra, and spent the first day exploring the area on foot. We hiked through the town past the municipal administration building, some large gardens, the National Palace Of Sintra (which served as the summer palace for royalty for a couple of centuries until the end of the 1600’s), and the Quinta da Regaleira (which unfortunately had just closed to visitors by the time we made our way there). The photo above shows a small alcove along the main roadway.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wSIx3msELAw/W9YyAs-XAGI/AAAAAAAABY8/jKsRvBXPKokN-xA4hkhQFi7GI3qVzIBGACLcBGAs/s1600/AB48F65A-61C8-486D-A30A-60C3FBF86D0B.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wSIx3msELAw/W9YyAs-XAGI/AAAAAAAABY8/jKsRvBXPKokN-xA4hkhQFi7GI3qVzIBGACLcBGAs/s400/AB48F65A-61C8-486D-A30A-60C3FBF86D0B.jpeg" width="300" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div><br />Near the Quinta da Regaleira, we took in the view over the Vila de Sintra. Looking in the other direction, through the arch behind us you can see the Palace of Pena on a nearby mountaintop.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fd9w9J1AfFA/W9YyAvOvm2I/AAAAAAAABY4/A725uQwfzm4qZaG51XEJxF2Pa5F2WvKaQCLcBGAs/s1600/CD645682-8432-42D6-B010-D905F4B124A9.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fd9w9J1AfFA/W9YyAvOvm2I/AAAAAAAABY4/A725uQwfzm4qZaG51XEJxF2Pa5F2WvKaQCLcBGAs/s400/CD645682-8432-42D6-B010-D905F4B124A9.jpeg" width="300" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div><br />Throughout Sintra, there were many stores catering to tourists. For example, these iron items looked interesting, although a little heavy to transport home via airplane in a suitcase.<br /><br />Castelo dos Mouros (Castle of the Moors)<br /><br />On the second day, we bought tickets for the “hop-on-hop-off” bus, and boarded it to take us to the Castle of the Moors on one mountaintop above the city, and the Palace of Pena on another nearby peak. It is also possible to hike up to the castle via a walking trail and then over to the palace, although it would be a long, steep route. The road was very narrow with many switchbacks to get to the top. We were amazed to see how the well the bus driver negotiated the narrow twisty road, and were glad we had left the rental car parked down below. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-44jvOWfmmJ0/W9YwiiKxZSI/AAAAAAAABYQ/pF0J3smZQ0Epwl8inXbCeJetSnI5Da8PgCLcBGAs/s1600/5DCA7BF8-EDAD-49CA-A7BF-345B21BBB3F0.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-44jvOWfmmJ0/W9YwiiKxZSI/AAAAAAAABYQ/pF0J3smZQ0Epwl8inXbCeJetSnI5Da8PgCLcBGAs/s400/5DCA7BF8-EDAD-49CA-A7BF-345B21BBB3F0.jpeg" width="300" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div><br />The Castelo dos Mouros was a military fort built in the tenth century during the time that the Moors occupied the Iberian peninsula. In this photo, you can see the keep.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8jYwlDmwPEE/W9YwhiR28CI/AAAAAAAABYM/bwiyu9RpMv49WnPXltSr6eTu3Df0xcMrgCLcBGAs/s1600/7FB22219-00FF-478F-9BAC-91FD52645780.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8jYwlDmwPEE/W9YwhiR28CI/AAAAAAAABYM/bwiyu9RpMv49WnPXltSr6eTu3Df0xcMrgCLcBGAs/s400/7FB22219-00FF-478F-9BAC-91FD52645780.jpeg" width="300" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div><br />From the castle, you get a good view of the Palace of Pena.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lav_TBZP6bY/W9Ywi6cWaqI/AAAAAAAABYU/cEmNisj2tWoHMdN-G76liTViz20Ukt0TQCLcBGAs/s1600/89E82DC9-9A94-42F2-B8E1-7BC118AA8013.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lav_TBZP6bY/W9Ywi6cWaqI/AAAAAAAABYU/cEmNisj2tWoHMdN-G76liTViz20Ukt0TQCLcBGAs/s400/89E82DC9-9A94-42F2-B8E1-7BC118AA8013.jpeg" width="300" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div><br />The views in all directions from the castle are amazing.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m9nT4Ueu4-w/W9YwkCJ1uJI/AAAAAAAABYY/WPDFXzgVGBgusw6_ZwNHBioerKjjYmcAgCLcBGAs/s1600/96A0B11A-F714-4EB1-9613-B450C979D5D9.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m9nT4Ueu4-w/W9YwkCJ1uJI/AAAAAAAABYY/WPDFXzgVGBgusw6_ZwNHBioerKjjYmcAgCLcBGAs/s400/96A0B11A-F714-4EB1-9613-B450C979D5D9.jpeg" width="300" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div><br />We climbed up and down many stairs as we hiked around the castle.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vN5xh_gbdr4/W9YwlULiHFI/AAAAAAAABYc/OVHiL2DmewYDGjsgC-e7FjnrK-WH7r-nwCLcBGAs/s1600/99E94BC1-9B46-447C-B0F9-5E21254AC0A8.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vN5xh_gbdr4/W9YwlULiHFI/AAAAAAAABYc/OVHiL2DmewYDGjsgC-e7FjnrK-WH7r-nwCLcBGAs/s400/99E94BC1-9B46-447C-B0F9-5E21254AC0A8.jpeg" width="300" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div><br />This photo shows the castle wall going from the keep to a second high point. I walked all along the castle wall, even though the ground fell away below in a rather breathtaking way. Rob took an alternative route to the far side. After exploring the castle, we hiked back out the road and hopped on the bus again, which dropped us off at the wall around Pena Palace.<br /><br />Palacio Nacional de Pena (Pena National Palace)<br /><br />Pena Palace is built upon the foundation of a former monastery on the site, and it incorporates many elements of the former building. It was built under the initiative of King-Consort Ferdinand and Queen Maria II in the mid-1800’s. It is considered to be the preeminent example of Portuguese Romantic architecture.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X8kHITrjszU/W9Ytq_H9qSI/AAAAAAAABXU/Ic9C1FqxYK0_6af32UE-yYqNmUCfIe2nQCLcBGAs/s1600/1C026EAA-1258-4FC4-8517-03FB79B50797.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X8kHITrjszU/W9Ytq_H9qSI/AAAAAAAABXU/Ic9C1FqxYK0_6af32UE-yYqNmUCfIe2nQCLcBGAs/s400/1C026EAA-1258-4FC4-8517-03FB79B50797.jpeg" width="300" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div><br />From the wall around the palace to the palace itself there was another long hike up a hill through the Pena Gardens. If we had been so inclined, we could have paid 3€ each and ridden up in a shuttle bus. But we walked, needing to balance some of the eating we had been doing with some vigorous exercise. We certainly achieved more than our 10,000 steps on this day.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z0KJLDewhj0/W9YtpIRSWNI/AAAAAAAABXM/rtBM4CYowEENTJ8pTF9AAgbYTIA9faSYgCLcBGAs/s1600/3B29C985-D047-499B-9E5A-AA06DA0A2F86.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z0KJLDewhj0/W9YtpIRSWNI/AAAAAAAABXM/rtBM4CYowEENTJ8pTF9AAgbYTIA9faSYgCLcBGAs/s400/3B29C985-D047-499B-9E5A-AA06DA0A2F86.jpeg" width="300" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div><br />Pena Palace is like a fairytale palace, and it is equally beautiful on the inside.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-g6WsnSYSueg/W9YttX5mbRI/AAAAAAAABXc/ExDP7NCILxQvEtEaoaX1Wa6JWiUYivQxQCLcBGAs/s1600/97F8C409-1E57-4DA8-8999-D0227C07AE44.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-g6WsnSYSueg/W9YttX5mbRI/AAAAAAAABXc/ExDP7NCILxQvEtEaoaX1Wa6JWiUYivQxQCLcBGAs/s400/97F8C409-1E57-4DA8-8999-D0227C07AE44.jpeg" width="300" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div><br />From the palace, there are fabulous views over Sintra and the mountains nearby.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BPCk8hGzwiU/W9YtqB95BXI/AAAAAAAABXQ/z-eB32n4AzofhCOf7zI3UQCLSkZIGDePQCLcBGAs/s1600/452C7DE1-B2ED-42C0-985B-590CD9189B03.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BPCk8hGzwiU/W9YtqB95BXI/AAAAAAAABXQ/z-eB32n4AzofhCOf7zI3UQCLSkZIGDePQCLcBGAs/s400/452C7DE1-B2ED-42C0-985B-590CD9189B03.jpeg" width="300" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div><br />The photo above is of a small niche in the interior. The wall mosaic dates from Moorish times. If you look closely, you can see that seashells were used in the mosaic pattern. Later, this space was used as a storeroom for the palace.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Az-6nm6bAcg/W9YtsXvOLfI/AAAAAAAABXY/14yG4EtvxPgm5eTXQRNxLMB3mqfwUOR_wCLcBGAs/s1600/759C72EF-9634-4E5E-ADC8-1CF36636755B.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Az-6nm6bAcg/W9YtsXvOLfI/AAAAAAAABXY/14yG4EtvxPgm5eTXQRNxLMB3mqfwUOR_wCLcBGAs/s400/759C72EF-9634-4E5E-ADC8-1CF36636755B.jpeg" width="300" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div><br />Some brave souls were doing the exterior wall walk. Not I.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tV6SuBr3aFY/W9YttQBdfZI/AAAAAAAABXg/xOPwhIlRZ3o4FOl4_d7hyX7l5gltlOWgQCLcBGAs/s1600/C6017323-8D09-42E8-8C97-E1A16E682A9C.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tV6SuBr3aFY/W9YttQBdfZI/AAAAAAAABXg/xOPwhIlRZ3o4FOl4_d7hyX7l5gltlOWgQCLcBGAs/s400/C6017323-8D09-42E8-8C97-E1A16E682A9C.jpeg" width="300" height="400" data-original-width="1200" data-original-height="1600" /></a></div><br />There were elaborate carved details throughout the palace. Above you can see a representation of Triton, god of the sea. He was located on the exterior, just above the main entrance.<br /><br />We were astounded and delighted with the beauty and history in Sintra. We are glad that we made it to this area during our time in Portugal.<br /><br />Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-28850679972202643512018-10-27T11:42:00.000-06:002018-10-27T11:42:10.629-06:00The Fabulous Pousadas of Portugal Rob and I have been enjoying 15 days travelling through Portugal. We started in Lisbon, where I attended an academic conference. Although quite a bit of my time was taken up with the conference, we also had plenty of time to tour parts of the city that we hadn’t seen in our last visit here in 2011. In particular, we visited the Tile Museum and explored the Parque das Nacoes, which was the site of the World Exposition in 1998. We ate at many traditional Portuguese restaurants, as well as some featuring new cuisine, and enjoyed listening to fado singers. <br /><br />From Lisbon, we went on to Sintra and then north to Porto. I will write about those parts of the trip in a separate post. <br /><br />When we travelled to Portugal in 2011, we discovered Portuguese Pousadas, to our great delight. The pousadas are luxury inns throughout the country, situated in buildings that are national monuments, or that are significant because of their history or natural beauty. They are run by the Pestana group, but I believe that they were initially established as an initiative by the government of Portugal. In 2011, we stayed at Alcacer do Sal, on top of a hill at the mouth of a river where the Romans traded in salt. At various times it was a castle, a Moorish palace, and a Roman fort. There is an archaeological dig under the pousada with artifacts going back to the Bronze Age. Later in that trip, as we toured through the Alentejo region, we stayed at a pousada in Evora which had been convent and before that a beautiful Moorish palace. The third pousada that we stayed in was in Elvas, next to a fabulous walled city, and very impressive Roman aqueducts.<br /><br />Our experience with the pousadas was outstanding. So on this trip, we decided to book a four-day tour of some pousadas in northern Portugal. (We were aware of their special offers because they have been sending us emails since 2011. If you become a Pestana member, you are eligible for discounts and special offers.)<br /><br />We started our pousada tour at the Pousada Viana do Castelo. It is located on top of Monte de Santa Luzia in an elegant 100-year-old hotel. From the pousada, there are fabulous views out over the Port of Viana do Castelo. The pousada is decorated in the Belle Epoch style — very beautiful. We rode the funicular down to the city and spent an interesting day wandering around the city, looking at the busy modern port, and walking around the ruins of the old castle on the shore. Viana do Castelo is one of the places on the route of the Portuguese pilgrim’s way, on the Camino to Santiago de Compostela, nearby in Spain. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TZeIE_zpKNA/W9SST-BIDKI/AAAAAAAABV8/mq-aLtnAoXITFQD6FFB7i_YO24BfEc1VgCLcBGAs/s1600/7FAFC6DB-74C4-482D-9A06-70C2062330F5.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TZeIE_zpKNA/W9SST-BIDKI/AAAAAAAABV8/mq-aLtnAoXITFQD6FFB7i_YO24BfEc1VgCLcBGAs/s400/7FAFC6DB-74C4-482D-9A06-70C2062330F5.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br />A lovely sitting room<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OdTVQ5x9-Pg/W9SSQeaTNSI/AAAAAAAABV4/-kG2ZXfaynMwOo27l22hnIxDXqiQmT46ACLcBGAs/s1600/114F0840-16AC-4B27-967F-7FCD25F2FC0B.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OdTVQ5x9-Pg/W9SSQeaTNSI/AAAAAAAABV4/-kG2ZXfaynMwOo27l22hnIxDXqiQmT46ACLcBGAs/s400/114F0840-16AC-4B27-967F-7FCD25F2FC0B.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />The view from the window of our room<br /><br />We also enjoyed the gardens of the pousada. I swam in the outdoor pool, although the water was very cold. We sat and enjoyed the view from the salon, read, and sipped port.<br /><br />From Viana do Castelo, we left the coast and drove east. After a stop in beautiful Ponte de Lima, where we walked across a Roman bridge and toured through a Roman garden, we passed through the north side of Braga and headed up into the mountains. Our next destination was the Pousada de Canicada-Geres, a chalet style inn high in the mountains looking over the National Park Of Peneda-Geres.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UYiZA5FWfx8/W9SSPhywjCI/AAAAAAAABV0/t6tVHNXSnUYaTLyhqjPqDap1qVUmdG3BwCLcBGAs/s1600/45D4107F-DFEC-41F0-AABD-B6E22DA62CDA.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UYiZA5FWfx8/W9SSPhywjCI/AAAAAAAABV0/t6tVHNXSnUYaTLyhqjPqDap1qVUmdG3BwCLcBGAs/s400/45D4107F-DFEC-41F0-AABD-B6E22DA62CDA.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br />A chalet in the mountains<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GWqFFDLjN10/W9SSOk-Z8JI/AAAAAAAABVw/cFgCdMMSd0wz1gbQiV1GrP-2XFBhEKh5gCLcBGAs/s1600/6BD89C32-10F9-4A3B-BB5C-1CDE4A18D43E.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GWqFFDLjN10/W9SSOk-Z8JI/AAAAAAAABVw/cFgCdMMSd0wz1gbQiV1GrP-2XFBhEKh5gCLcBGAs/s400/6BD89C32-10F9-4A3B-BB5C-1CDE4A18D43E.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />View from the bar out over mountains and a lake<br /><br />Now we have travelled to the third pousada— Pousada Mosteiro de Guimaraes, also called the Monastery of Santa Marinha. The monastery dates back to the late 9th century, although the building is older than that. It was founded by Dona Mafalda and named for the patron saint of women in childbirth. It is surrounded by gardens.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZDvbXbYC_LM/W9SSVdAwSMI/AAAAAAAABWA/1a735pSQOhIUzYIRJh8obQw1yC0O7b6HACLcBGAs/s1600/ADD4EE17-3744-4C90-BDB2-BE4360273CEB.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZDvbXbYC_LM/W9SSVdAwSMI/AAAAAAAABWA/1a735pSQOhIUzYIRJh8obQw1yC0O7b6HACLcBGAs/s400/ADD4EE17-3744-4C90-BDB2-BE4360273CEB.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br />Me standing in front of the pousada.<br /><br />The other thing that I haven’t mentioned are delicious breakfasts included in the cost of the room. A North American breakfast will never look the same after this. We also have splurged on several pousada dinners. I think my waistline is going to pay for it, even though we have been doing a great deal of walking, hill climbing, and clambering up many staircases inside of castles.<br /><br />A final note. I have found a slow and tedious way to write this post using a tablet, and to import photos off my phone. However, writing on a tablet does not allow for for formatting options, and editing functions are limited. So please pardon any errors you find.<br /><br />Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-47393561540184767862018-10-14T15:33:00.003-06:002018-10-27T11:57:43.882-06:00Art, Family, and Food onThanksgiving Weekend<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: left;">Last weekend was Thanksgiving weekend in Canada. Thanksgiving, for me, has always centered around family coming together from wherever we are and enjoying good food. Now that I have retired and moved back to BC, it is much easier to enjoy holiday celebrations together. I live near my oldest daughter and her family, and my two other (grownup) children are just a ferry ride away. Rob’s two kids and that set of grandchildren live farther away, and we are planning to travel to spend Christmas with them.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But, this Thanksgiving was a little different from past years. The studio art tour group that I belong to hosts three events a year — a Spring Showcase, a Thanksgiving Studio Tour, and a Christmas Crawl (which is also a studio tour). I participated in the Spring Showcase, and wrote about it <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.com/2018/05/" target="_blank">here</a>. The Thanksgiving Tour includes all three days of the long weekend.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For the tour events, artists open their studio/galleries to the public. People drive from studio to studio to view and purchase art, including paintings, pottery, handmade glass, wood carvings, jewellery, fabric art, and soap. Twenty studios were open for our Thanksgiving Tour.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is the first time I have been part of a tour. It required lots of preparation.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4EdYaD2AWK4/W8GQV6xFJPI/AAAAAAAABUg/-lJax9L7cZk7kUORU7GpKPL7awzfQv2lQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_3542.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4EdYaD2AWK4/W8GQV6xFJPI/AAAAAAAABUg/-lJax9L7cZk7kUORU7GpKPL7awzfQv2lQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_3542.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br />This photo above shows my new sandwich board sign. There are also photos below showing the sign I now have in front of my studio. My daughter, the net artist designed the logo, and Rob built the cedar signpost and sandwich board. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FYmWsiXqOWo/W8GQrOZToNI/AAAAAAAABUo/SQ59dECXbNYYGOn9eyh0OoXEAfWwuHY4ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_3539.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FYmWsiXqOWo/W8GQrOZToNI/AAAAAAAABUo/SQ59dECXbNYYGOn9eyh0OoXEAfWwuHY4ACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_3539.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GcJjkWjL2_s/W8GQv5yCKwI/AAAAAAAABUs/x5DPdLtqeycuMfe84RPurFe0XXcrbrMmgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_3536.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GcJjkWjL2_s/W8GQv5yCKwI/AAAAAAAABUs/x5DPdLtqeycuMfe84RPurFe0XXcrbrMmgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_3536.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JfQiZrdJNtU/W8GQ9enAmuI/AAAAAAAABU0/XHyeo_x4mGcOJxTOM89qywMzdIgNtC4LgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_3551.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JfQiZrdJNtU/W8GQ9enAmuI/AAAAAAAABU0/XHyeo_x4mGcOJxTOM89qywMzdIgNtC4LgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_3551.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OwbjkSBotTk/W8GRDDaawHI/AAAAAAAABU8/umTXLKiykTQts3ROpiJaLGYjKwWdHW-_gCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_3556.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OwbjkSBotTk/W8GRDDaawHI/AAAAAAAABU8/umTXLKiykTQts3ROpiJaLGYjKwWdHW-_gCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_3556.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br />I had lots of visitors to my studio over the three days, and even started a new painting. <br />Read more about Nanoose Bay Thanksgiving Studio Tour <a href="https://www.notchhillart.com/blog/2018/10/12/a-great-turnout-for-thanksgiving-show-last" target="_blank">here</a>. <br /><br />My younger daughter, her friend, and my son came over on the ferry for the long weekend. Because of the tour, I did not have time to cook a big Thanksgiving Dinner. Instead, my daughter had the whole family over on Thanksgiving. She cooked an amazing feast! We also went out one night to a local English style pub and had a great dinner there, followed by some goofing around.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XX81IBp4_Vo/W8GSCNKaHZI/AAAAAAAABVM/6UK9XP8RrtkMnYVdPzaZ9_duLtMh6gpQwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_3562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XX81IBp4_Vo/W8GSCNKaHZI/AAAAAAAABVM/6UK9XP8RrtkMnYVdPzaZ9_duLtMh6gpQwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_3562.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />The weather has turned to Fall, and the leaves are brilliant colours.<br /><br />I am grateful for my family, good times together, the chance to make art, and the beautiful place that I live. <br /><br /><br />Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-29495869701029376952018-09-27T00:56:00.001-06:002018-09-30T12:40:18.428-06:00The Last Good-Bye<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4J_N5fhygl8/W6x5ZV1_NeI/AAAAAAAABTE/sdRT5dxabVE8DIwT5fVTMGf7CRJr4smVwCLcBGAs/s1600/115_1525.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4J_N5fhygl8/W6x5ZV1_NeI/AAAAAAAABTE/sdRT5dxabVE8DIwT5fVTMGf7CRJr4smVwCLcBGAs/s320/115_1525.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />My Mom died this summer.<br /><br />She had been in poor health for a long time. She had a couple of close calls last winter, and a rough spring. But she bounced back this summer. She gained back a few pounds. She resumed her busy social life and many activities with new vigour. We stopped worrying quite so much.<br /><br />And then one day on a sunny morning in August, Mom went downtown for a hair appointment. She was chatting with people. Suddenly, she gasped, collapsed, and stopped breathing. That was it. The end. Neither CPR, nor anything the paramedics did could bring her back.<br /><br />It took me by surprise. It took us all by surprise. We were not ready to let her go.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9FuaUdbzV_A/W6x522wZ-SI/AAAAAAAABTM/WWZw14w9RI0BfRd69tTG7nsBnKHhP2SlQCLcBGAs/s1600/DSC_6152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1072" data-original-width="1600" height="267" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9FuaUdbzV_A/W6x522wZ-SI/AAAAAAAABTM/WWZw14w9RI0BfRd69tTG7nsBnKHhP2SlQCLcBGAs/s400/DSC_6152.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom with her Youngest Grandchild</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fABG9GT5444/W6x6eglUjeI/AAAAAAAABTc/OVbT-gRGm8E10FUQgGJjOOeS-WEO0Db2QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0364.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fABG9GT5444/W6x6eglUjeI/AAAAAAAABTc/OVbT-gRGm8E10FUQgGJjOOeS-WEO0Db2QCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0364.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom and Me in 2014</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I went back to my hometown to visit Mom earlier in the summer. I stayed with her in her spare bedroom, and we spent a lovely week together. I went with her to have coffee with her coffee buddies, and to lunch at the seniors' centre, followed by an afternoon of playing cribbage. I accompanied her as she purchased flowers and we went up to the hospital so she could give bouquets of flowers to patients who needed something to brighten their day. She used to do this every week.<br /><br />We had some lovely dinners at my brother and sister-in-law's place, cooked at home some nights, and went to the Legion for beer and burgers on Friday. Mom's two youngest granddaughters came for a visit on Saturday afternoon, and we all went over to the playground across the street. Mom and I also did several drives out into the country to all of Mom's favourite places. We even did a short hike to the fossil beds.&nbsp; <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KcWA8lja2ns/W6x7fsO3fVI/AAAAAAAABT0/BtA4BNVxMiUth8crmZWa5R4RcZpVrIDWQCLcBGAs/s1600/Scooter.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KcWA8lja2ns/W6x7fsO3fVI/AAAAAAAABT0/BtA4BNVxMiUth8crmZWa5R4RcZpVrIDWQCLcBGAs/s400/Scooter.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom and Granddaughters Returning From the Playground, July 2018</td></tr></tbody></table><br />At her initiative, we went to tour the two seniors' residences in the community. Mom wanted me to see the places so I could see for myself that she was not at all ready for that type of living arrangement. She talked about her plan for how she would manage to get out and around this winter once the snow became deep. (She did not drive, but used a scooter for mobility. However, the previous winter, there had been some weeks that the snow had been too deep for the scooter.)<br /><br />In the late afternoon of July 25, I gave my Mom a hug, jumped into the little white rental car, waved good-bye to Mom who was standing at her window waving, and drove away. That was the last time that I got to hug my Mom good-bye.<br /><br />I was planning to visit again soon, in August. Rob and I were going to drive up north and arrive in time for the Fall Fair. We planned to celebrate my mom's 85th birthday with her on August 31. But just days before we were about to leave on the trip, my brother phoned with the news of her passing. On August 31, instead of celebrating my mom's birthday, we held a Celebration of Life service.&nbsp; <br /><br />Her one surviving sister, and every one of her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren came to the service. It was the first time in I don't know how many years that all of the family has come together.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1Quq9LJJvu8/W6x76zuSSRI/AAAAAAAABT8/Lv7QaBWjK6EHHATp_d03r9g2h6PR4vyKACLcBGAs/s1600/Judith%2BLawrence%2BMom%2BDad%2BB%2526W.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1193" data-original-width="1600" height="297" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1Quq9LJJvu8/W6x76zuSSRI/AAAAAAAABT8/Lv7QaBWjK6EHHATp_d03r9g2h6PR4vyKACLcBGAs/s400/Judith%2BLawrence%2BMom%2BDad%2BB%2526W.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad, Mom, Me, and My Baby Brother</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I flew up the day after Mom passed away and stayed at her place in the same spare bedroom in which I had stayed just three weeks earlier. It felt peaceful being there at Mom's place, surrounded by her stuff, remembering her. It gave me a chance to grieve. As well, I spent lots of time with my brothers and other family who live in the area, and we supported each other, and made the arrangements together.<br /><br />At my age, I now have had quite a few experiences with death. But there is nothing like losing your mother. It is so stark and irreversible. I am now the oldest generation left in this branch of the family tree.<br /><br />I spoke at the service. I said that I can always come home to Mom because I have her in my heart.<br /><br />Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-58896325431267815002018-08-06T19:22:00.000-06:002018-08-06T23:37:01.291-06:00Something You Don't Know About MeSomething you don't know about me -- what could that be? I have been writing this blog for ten years now, and I have written about a lot of different aspects of my life. But not everything. For example, I have hardly written anything at all about the kind of work I did before I retired, even though it consumed 40-60 hours a week of my life for 35 years.<br /><br />But that is not what I am writing about today.<br /><br />A thing that not many people know about me is that I do not watch TV. At all. Ever. With a couple of small exceptions.<br /><br />I watch elections, including Canadian provincial and federal elections, and American presidential elections. I watch the Winter Olympics (but not the Summer Olympics). And I watch FIFA World Cup soccer, both the men's and the women's competitions. Other than that, nada.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cx21rIqyCBk/W2jq-3R3EQI/AAAAAAAABRI/zT6vCzYjLKU9o8FWV63BN9L_JTFFRy-zgCLcBGAs/s1600/fifa-symbol-500x381.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="381" data-original-width="500" height="243" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cx21rIqyCBk/W2jq-3R3EQI/AAAAAAAABRI/zT6vCzYjLKU9o8FWV63BN9L_JTFFRy-zgCLcBGAs/s320/fifa-symbol-500x381.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />We do actually have a television. It lives in the basement, where we mostly use it to watch movies. These are not movies on TV, but selections from Rob's huge collection of DVDs. Recently we began to subscribe to Netflix, and sometimes watch Netflix movies on the television. I occasionally watch an episode from a Netflix series on my iPad, but not very often.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OA3P8XL32V8/W2jwYj71y0I/AAAAAAAABRc/8Ed5RgI-pF86ICrH-ZZCHv_olFfXKWDUwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2882.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OA3P8XL32V8/W2jwYj71y0I/AAAAAAAABRc/8Ed5RgI-pF86ICrH-ZZCHv_olFfXKWDUwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2882.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cycling the Local Trails</td></tr></tbody></table>Rob watches lots of movies every week, usually on his computer. He is a bit of a movie buff. But he doesn't watch much TV either. We do have a digital cable package, and when my son lived with us, he used to watch hockey.<br /><br />My experience with the TV is so limited that, until the recent World Cup competition this summer, I didn't even know how to use the remotes to turn ours on, or how to find channels. I do not have any interest in TV. I am so unused to being around a television that when I am in a place where there is one blaring, such in a bar where several are playing, I find it hard to mentally tune them out.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aOQ4iM7MT7A/W2jw2o4A0wI/AAAAAAAABRk/LpGXho3AJ08ZLfkoRd5MHhVi8RCzeuMgQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aOQ4iM7MT7A/W2jw2o4A0wI/AAAAAAAABRk/LpGXho3AJ08ZLfkoRd5MHhVi8RCzeuMgQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2921.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Visit From Our Good Friends Blanca and Vaughan </td></tr></tbody></table>I grew up in a house where the TV was turned on all day long, and as a child, I did watch TV. However, on the northern frontier where I grew up, TV <a href="http://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.com/2013/02/test-patterns-of-mind.html" target="_blank">did not come to our community</a> until I was in primary school. When it did finally broadcast to the north, we only received one channel and there was no cable. It was CBC, our Canadian national television station mixed with some local programming. Eventually we got two channels, CBC and CTV.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FSoZrTcBODo/W2jxIO68kcI/AAAAAAAABRs/UKPn9EwmfDs6n4GQ-WZPf1gfzW22tnEhACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2965.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FSoZrTcBODo/W2jxIO68kcI/AAAAAAAABRs/UKPn9EwmfDs6n4GQ-WZPf1gfzW22tnEhACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2965.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yoga on a Log</td></tr></tbody></table>When I left home at 18, I stopped watching TV, and never felt the lack of it. When I got my own apartment, I did not get a television. My life was so busy that I did not want to "waste" time watching TV programs. I read a lot instead.<br /><br />My first husband brought a TV back into my life, but I still rarely watched it. I did have a brief interest in LA Law and Star Trek, Next Generation in the late '80s. My preschool-aged children watched children's programs like Friendly Giant, Fred Penner, and Sesame Street. When I became single again, the TV went down to the basement and we no longer subscribed to cable, until the kids became teenagers and begged me to get cable once again. Occasionally I would watch something with them -- Friends, That Seventies Show, Seinfeld, The Simpsons, or Family Guy.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i2EYSCj9f7Q/W2jxeltYF3I/AAAAAAAABR0/bNRT6WDG8FE7SlP1h-Nu5PbZGJ8elOZ0wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2982.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i2EYSCj9f7Q/W2jxeltYF3I/AAAAAAAABR0/bNRT6WDG8FE7SlP1h-Nu5PbZGJ8elOZ0wCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2982.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rob's High School Buddy Comes to Visit</td></tr></tbody></table>Because of my lack of immersion in TV programming, sometimes I feel like a bit of a cultural idiot. Back in the days when everyone was breathlessly following a series such as Dallas, or Survivor, I was unable to contribute to conversations at coffee break or at a social gathering. I don't know the names of television actors or the characters they played. Similarly, I can't say who won the Stanley Cup this year, nor do I know which player was traded to which team for what outrageous sum of money. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kK_X_TbQOrk/W2jx7kxtFuI/AAAAAAAABR8/UY0lK_cAGOYHmKvUaZ0-mSJQaRgRiZmtwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2986.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kK_X_TbQOrk/W2jx7kxtFuI/AAAAAAAABR8/UY0lK_cAGOYHmKvUaZ0-mSJQaRgRiZmtwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2986.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Trip Up North to Visit My Mom </td></tr></tbody></table>But, strangely, for the three things that I do like to watch -- elections, Olympics, and World Cup -- I become totally obsessed. This year was a year in which both the Winter Olympics and the men's World Cup took place, as both of them are on the same four-year cycle. So I had a period of excessive TV watching in February for the Olympics, and another period in July, watching World Cup.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sRJGQTwGm-s/W2jydqrGxAI/AAAAAAAABSE/YioCLOlVcdQquZDxWe6--yvnolYLqxl1ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_3057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sRJGQTwGm-s/W2jydqrGxAI/AAAAAAAABSE/YioCLOlVcdQquZDxWe6--yvnolYLqxl1ACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_3057.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of Several Yummy Dinners on the Deck</td></tr></tbody></table>I think the reason that I like the Winter Olympics so much is that I do (or used to do) several winter sports -- alpine skiing, nordic skiing, and figure skating, and my daughter used to be a freestyle skier, and my son snowboards. Similarly, World Cup interests me because I played soccer on and off from childhood through until I was 55. I also coached soccer for a couple of years.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K-QqOJuHcn4/W2jyvIuyWyI/AAAAAAAABSM/hBisppyIETQTaapkc6XVCXfmRVqwzlMEgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_3062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K-QqOJuHcn4/W2jyvIuyWyI/AAAAAAAABSM/hBisppyIETQTaapkc6XVCXfmRVqwzlMEgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_3062.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Helping my Son With a Move to a New Apartment</td></tr></tbody></table>I was so motivated to watch World Cup this summer that I learned to use the TV remotes! Rob subscribed to on-demand programming for the sports channel so I could follow the World Cup matches. (Have I mentioned that he is a sweetie?) I even downloaded an app onto my iPad so that I could watch matches if I had to be away from the TV, which I was frequently as we travelled a lot last month.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1iWi0V8jh88/W2jzBqTHkDI/AAAAAAAABSU/7oocUsqMQAwfBplzpfw21Z1DGZtAUTvOQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_3081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1iWi0V8jh88/W2jzBqTHkDI/AAAAAAAABSU/7oocUsqMQAwfBplzpfw21Z1DGZtAUTvOQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_3081.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Visit to Victoria to See a Dear Friend </td></tr></tbody></table>&nbsp;One thing that I know for sure is that retirement hasn't turned me into a television aficionado. The photos throughout this post show some of the fun things that we did last month. We did lots of travelling and had some visitors. I think that not watching much TV has made my life more rich and interesting.<br /><br />Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-43522260870929315042018-07-09T22:49:00.003-06:002018-07-09T22:57:46.694-06:00Camping With the KiddlesCamping might just be the quintessential Canadian pastime. That is what we have been up to this past week. We went camping with my daughter's family at a lake on the northern part of the Island.<br /><br />Yes, I did mean to type "kiddles." It rhymes with "littles." We were camping with the grandchildren, which is the best kind of camping of all.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9k2fiXOf_u8/W0QpbqNI0aI/AAAAAAAABOE/U9DYvV1xCtUNfTNDTFZFPdUsByX0BA1NwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2717.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9k2fiXOf_u8/W0QpbqNI0aI/AAAAAAAABOE/U9DYvV1xCtUNfTNDTFZFPdUsByX0BA1NwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2717.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Belly Boats and Kate</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>We brought our dog Kate along with us. Of course, it was not without incident. She began breathing in a laboured way on Thursday, just before the long weekend, and we planned to leave Monday morning. A visit to the vet on Friday provided reassurance and we purchased some expensive anti-inflamatory medication and an analgesic. Her breathing immediately went back to normal and she seemed fine throughout the trip, cavorting around like a dog half her age. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ylcbNV6KTsI/W0QrexKXu3I/AAAAAAAABOQ/mCmQ9SebgdgaOP8j3K-pj2aIcNp7ps5-gCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ylcbNV6KTsI/W0QrexKXu3I/AAAAAAAABOQ/mCmQ9SebgdgaOP8j3K-pj2aIcNp7ps5-gCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2785.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rob Fishing in the Belly Boat</td></tr></tbody></table>The <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.com/2016/08/belly-boats.html" target="_blank">belly boats</a> had been packed away since the move. It was great fun to get out on the lake in them and do some fly fishing. We were fortunate to have several days of glorious sunshine. Although it was obvious that the lake was full of fish as they were rising all around us, we only hooked one fish, but I lost it. However, the loons on the lake looked sleek and well-fed.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yf_kKYFo6h4/W0QszWfxuAI/AAAAAAAABOk/MF_SovYbx9MP0SIRwHObpin_wk6l9WF-QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2747.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yf_kKYFo6h4/W0QszWfxuAI/AAAAAAAABOk/MF_SovYbx9MP0SIRwHObpin_wk6l9WF-QCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2747.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beach Time</td></tr></tbody></table>The little lake had a large area with a sandy beach, and it was terrific for swimming. The beach was also a good place for building sand castles. Our double campsite was right by the lake and it had its own little beach area.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TEHlQ8VfqT8/W0QuAyT_SdI/AAAAAAAABO4/hXt0HhNRYtUoRGzaEfoQbsfFewGnEnv-wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2752.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TEHlQ8VfqT8/W0QuAyT_SdI/AAAAAAAABO4/hXt0HhNRYtUoRGzaEfoQbsfFewGnEnv-wCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2752.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On a Hike. The Pilings in the Water Were Supports for a Bridge Built During the Early Logging Years.</td></tr></tbody></table>We went on several short hikes while we were there. Our small lake was situated beside a much larger lake which is part of the <a href="https://offtracktravel.ca/novice-guide-sayward-forest-canoe-circuit/" target="_blank">Sayward Forest Canoe Circuit</a>, a 48 kilometer loop. Of this, 40 km is paddling and there is 8 km of portage. We paddled the <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.com/2009/09/water-and-sky.html" target="_blank">Bowron Lakes circuit</a> in central BC several years ago and had a wonderful time, so we feel tempted to do this one now!<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uquU9T7YFzQ/W0Qw5967gtI/AAAAAAAABPU/l70EEwTRJbsiFSS9kXurVOgcDOA5YUt3ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2799.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uquU9T7YFzQ/W0Qw5967gtI/AAAAAAAABPU/l70EEwTRJbsiFSS9kXurVOgcDOA5YUt3ACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2799.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the Camper One Rainy Afternoon</td></tr></tbody></table>The boys had their bikes along and spent some happy hours riding up and down the gravel road through the campground. We had one afternoon and night of rain. It was a perfect opportunity to retreat to the camper and read, play cards, and play early literacy games. There was no wifi or cell service. (Yay!)<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ym8_4SC63Z4/W0QyCziFwFI/AAAAAAAABPg/6bDT65ksn4wTrwwRtZ031-odk8UqRFWawCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2775.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ym8_4SC63Z4/W0QyCziFwFI/AAAAAAAABPg/6bDT65ksn4wTrwwRtZ031-odk8UqRFWawCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2775.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We Spent Time Around the Campfire</td></tr></tbody></table>As the forests are not dry at this time, there were no restrictions on campfires. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-U6GScs4obec/W0Qyvc8r-jI/AAAAAAAABPo/p8BH_Ca3A8UksXX0rKBt5suYrQSJMocHACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2791.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-U6GScs4obec/W0Qyvc8r-jI/AAAAAAAABPo/p8BH_Ca3A8UksXX0rKBt5suYrQSJMocHACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2791.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying some fresh BC Cherries</td></tr></tbody></table>There were cherries!<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ot47lCE133U/W0QzIxscZXI/AAAAAAAABP4/H2jsjmbjvgInpOk9oe9eLOtmq55NP1SXACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2769.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ot47lCE133U/W0QzIxscZXI/AAAAAAAABP4/H2jsjmbjvgInpOk9oe9eLOtmq55NP1SXACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2769.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roasting Marshmallows</td></tr></tbody></table>There were marshmallows!<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-21NCmtfA-KA/W0QzgqGy7EI/AAAAAAAABQA/sLVEHe3VW-oPZ8lQqPKATEt2yWOOH_bPwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2809.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-21NCmtfA-KA/W0QzgqGy7EI/AAAAAAAABQA/sLVEHe3VW-oPZ8lQqPKATEt2yWOOH_bPwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2809.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More Marshmallows</td></tr></tbody></table>There were S'Mores! In case you are wondering what S'Mores are, they are melted marshmallows layered with chocolate inside of graham crackers, kind of like a sandwich. The chocolate melts because it is close to the hot marshmallow. Yum!<br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gm1iEpcBcis/W0Q04g7uACI/AAAAAAAABQM/xUPlU5RVuO4Vv5p5GG4dQ9MD_bZWJUrTACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2816.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gm1iEpcBcis/W0Q04g7uACI/AAAAAAAABQM/xUPlU5RVuO4Vv5p5GG4dQ9MD_bZWJUrTACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2816.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And More Marshmallows</td></tr></tbody></table>The boys were thrilled so see their uncle when he was able to join us at the campground for the last two nights.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wcNAOncDSO4/W0Q1x2GmeEI/AAAAAAAABQg/2RUOAVzTSo0-bTIyOUFW_wPL8uwIrj5UQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2831.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wcNAOncDSO4/W0Q1x2GmeEI/AAAAAAAABQg/2RUOAVzTSo0-bTIyOUFW_wPL8uwIrj5UQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2831.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Sun Going Down</td></tr></tbody></table>The last night at the lake provided some great photo ops. There was a beautiful sky as the sun set.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-artBwBjPmbw/W0Q2QpeNQII/AAAAAAAABQo/DzTdXtDEY7U8spf9BZwrBkhS6xP3V5uuACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2867.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-artBwBjPmbw/W0Q2QpeNQII/AAAAAAAABQo/DzTdXtDEY7U8spf9BZwrBkhS6xP3V5uuACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2867.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sitting Around the Campfire</td></tr></tbody></table>If going camping is the quintessential Canadian summer experience, then sitting around a campfire at night staring into the flames and enjoying a beverage or two is the quintessential camping activity. We turned our Canada Day celebration into a Canada week!<br /><br />Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-78858205398845373372018-07-02T00:56:00.002-06:002018-07-02T00:56:31.481-06:00It's Been a Year!Today is July 1, Canada Day. On this day, Canadians are celebrating Canada's 151st birthday. This date is also meaningful to me for personal reasons.<br /><br />It has been quite the year! Exactly a year ago today was my first day of retirement. It was also the day that we took possession of our new house on Vancouver Island. So, on this significant anniversary, I will dedicate this blog post to a romp through some highlights of the past year.<br /><br /><i>July</i><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PGlQDqo66eU/Wzma1UfKW9I/AAAAAAAABKE/ToA9MOf5wBw057zN6D5RsPx9EBPeBkclgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0252.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PGlQDqo66eU/Wzma1UfKW9I/AAAAAAAABKE/ToA9MOf5wBw057zN6D5RsPx9EBPeBkclgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0252.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celebrating 150 Years Since Confederation on July 1, 2017</td></tr></tbody></table>In July last year, we drove out to the Island to sign the final documents and take possession of our new house. Then we raced east back to our house on the prairies to finalize the sale for our house there, <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.com/2017/07/big-changes-are-happening.html" target="_blank">to pack, and to move</a>. The moving truck loaded up our belongings on July 25. During that month, amidst the emotions and exhaustion of preparing to move, we took time to enjoy some of our favourite things <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.com/2017/07/one-last-pie.html" target="_blank">one last time</a>.<br /><br /><i>August</i><br /><br />August, of course, also was devoted to moving, except this time to unpacking what we had just packed up, and setting up <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.com/2017/08/moving-to-new-house.html" target="_blank">our new home</a>. We spent all of 12 days moving in and unpacking, then we were off again on a <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.com/2017/08/a-retirement-bonus.html" target="_blank">three-week camper trip</a> to northern BC! We attended a wedding and visited with lots of friends and family. We especially had fun with our other set of grand kids -- who had also just moved into a different house. We attended a <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.com/2017/10/family-small-towns-and-fall-fairs.html" target="_blank">Fall Fair</a> and also managed to fit in a hike or two.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7w-6aP-k81w/Wzme65bQNqI/AAAAAAAABKY/In0ZykBdHYwX3KNt7I3dnB-TEHnMrOddgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0604.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7w-6aP-k81w/Wzme65bQNqI/AAAAAAAABKY/In0ZykBdHYwX3KNt7I3dnB-TEHnMrOddgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0604.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Hike with my Brother. Looking across the Valley at Hudson Bay Mountain.</td></tr></tbody></table><i>September</i><br /><br />In September, we finally stopped racing around all over the country and began to settle into our new community and new life. We were thrilled to discover that where our house is located in a rural area, there is an elaborate network of walking trails right outside our door.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s0V83RFP_UA/Wzmx1nNiBVI/AAAAAAAABLA/LhtOXTOww8wzaJiBIqkuA-Q7rWecJfwuwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0850.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s0V83RFP_UA/Wzmx1nNiBVI/AAAAAAAABLA/LhtOXTOww8wzaJiBIqkuA-Q7rWecJfwuwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0850.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Favourite Local Trail</td></tr></tbody></table>&nbsp;September gave me a chance to get a first glimpse of what retired life might be like for me. I wrote about the relaxed pace of a typical day, which is a huge contrast to the intensity of the long hours of work that I was used to. Instead of the <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.com/2017/09/why-angst-about-retirement-dr-sock.html" target="_blank">possible difficult transition that I predicted</a>, as I wrote about about in a guest post (drafted in June and posted in September), I found that I was <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.com/2017/09/a-day-in-life-of-retiree.html" target="_blank">enjoying retirement </a>very much indeed!<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><i>October</i><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lg_itkQknZU/WzmymQBR4rI/AAAAAAAABLI/WnfDloI6LwkUgXgsS7HykBSF37wAUgROwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lg_itkQknZU/WzmymQBR4rI/AAAAAAAABLI/WnfDloI6LwkUgXgsS7HykBSF37wAUgROwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0033.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the Pumpkin Farm </td></tr></tbody></table>Of course, the <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.com/2017/10/what-really-matters.html" target="_blank">best thing of all</a> about our new location is lots of family time. For example, one glorious October day, I went to a pumpkin farm and corn maze with my grandsons and their parents. I also participated in an art show as a guest artist.<br /><br /><i>November</i><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wq97aRLkGzU/Wzm3nZ9Vf2I/AAAAAAAABLc/HJU79iAnxuYnLrYmqeFx0hrgBqmPo2EOwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1179.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wq97aRLkGzU/Wzm3nZ9Vf2I/AAAAAAAABLc/HJU79iAnxuYnLrYmqeFx0hrgBqmPo2EOwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1179.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snow in Our Garden in November</td></tr></tbody></table>&nbsp;In November, I <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.com/2017/11/why-i-enjoy-writing-fiction.html" target="_blank">participated in NaNoWriMo</a> and added another 40,000 words to my novel. My daughter hosted organized and hosted an art show in Vancouver featuring 23 international gif artists, and I attended.&nbsp; November also included a surprise trip to Hanover, Germany, for a <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.com/2017/12/film-festival-in-germany.html" target="_blank">film festival</a> where my daughter showed her work. We followed that up with a visit to <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.com/2017/12/berlin.html" target="_blank">Berlin</a>. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zV_9yp3RJi0/Wzm4F9ymNtI/AAAAAAAABLk/AtVZAuUhwhktG897k6NlMJ8PGzTB9GnkwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1235.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zV_9yp3RJi0/Wzm4F9ymNtI/AAAAAAAABLk/AtVZAuUhwhktG897k6NlMJ8PGzTB9GnkwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1235.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Erica at the International GIF Fest</td></tr></tbody></table><i>December</i><br /><br />In December, we visited Vancouver again and saw the Cirque du Soleil's Kurios show.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h9OE_zDuBWw/Wzm6KSjbQzI/AAAAAAAABL4/2_nNB8Xq1mw5XTiQx-mLQ4-820zYQ0RiwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1406.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h9OE_zDuBWw/Wzm6KSjbQzI/AAAAAAAABL4/2_nNB8Xq1mw5XTiQx-mLQ4-820zYQ0RiwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1406.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We Enjoyed the Show</td></tr></tbody></table>December was a whirl of activity, including a family skate party, skiing, family coming to spend Christmas with us, and of course, a big family dinner.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fuM22z2_ayU/Wzm6-zaU2NI/AAAAAAAABMA/68aKJ9lo1Fw4CMql2BS2QXuipUsRVPGKgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1462.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fuM22z2_ayU/Wzm6-zaU2NI/AAAAAAAABMA/68aKJ9lo1Fw4CMql2BS2QXuipUsRVPGKgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1462.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Family Skating Party</td></tr></tbody></table><i>January</i><br /><br />In January, we really settled into our new life. We enjoyed spending <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.com/2018/01/a-grandma-day.html" target="_blank">time with the grand kids</a>, as well as lots of walks and trips to the ski hill. When it rained nonstop for the last two weeks in January, we went to the furniture shop and bought new living room furniture. (See, that's what too much rain can do to you!)<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gSX4wbr4Ecg/Wzm9YNXfLeI/AAAAAAAABMU/fV5R2bn8zUEdlwtLByzqvQwrXbehDXNZQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1619.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gSX4wbr4Ecg/Wzm9YNXfLeI/AAAAAAAABMU/fV5R2bn8zUEdlwtLByzqvQwrXbehDXNZQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1619.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We Love the Local Ski Hill</td></tr></tbody></table><i>February</i><br /><br />February involved lots of hikes, lots of skiing, lots of time with the grand kids, time spent with friends, yoga, volunteer work, and time to read. So this is what it's like when you have time for a real life!<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wdMCCS3qgb4/WznAdfP4q_I/AAAAAAAABMo/Ahlbu6Hbw94D9wM0AYvdQlN3zlVgaXzkQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1893.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wdMCCS3qgb4/WznAdfP4q_I/AAAAAAAABMo/Ahlbu6Hbw94D9wM0AYvdQlN3zlVgaXzkQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1893.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fun at the Playground</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><i>March</i><br /><br />We went skiing on average once a week from January through April. We have made new friends here who like to ski. I joined a local group of artists and spent lots of time getting ready for an art show in April, and working with Erica to build an art website.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-U7akdYtVP_8/WznDk4F_QvI/AAAAAAAABM8/d0cFiYBw4SwVEfZO5feIvhe7HQqec-lJwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1982.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-U7akdYtVP_8/WznDk4F_QvI/AAAAAAAABM8/d0cFiYBw4SwVEfZO5feIvhe7HQqec-lJwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1982.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rathtrevor Beach</td></tr></tbody></table><i>April</i><br /><br />I joined a <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.com/2018/04/world-building.html" target="_blank">writers' group</a>, and started working on my novel again. I showed my paintings at a weekend <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.com/2018/05/announcing-notch-hill-art.html" target="_blank">art show</a>.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YDVtpKL71HA/WznHHtdLpuI/AAAAAAAABNQ/g1ADMTviOMEuJwxV6XAKRWJCgdnWtvxtQCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_2199.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YDVtpKL71HA/WznHHtdLpuI/AAAAAAAABNQ/g1ADMTviOMEuJwxV6XAKRWJCgdnWtvxtQCEwYBhgL/s400/IMG_2199.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Easter Egg Hunt</td></tr></tbody></table><i>May</i><br /><br />I set up a studio and gallery named <a href="https://www.notchhillart.com/" target="_blank">Notch Hill Art</a>, and launched the website. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LJYNMSISxPw/WznHM7ZAqdI/AAAAAAAABNU/ekBW0SSXV8w57UxxkTVVsPGkWiRSRzCjgCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_2359.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LJYNMSISxPw/WznHM7ZAqdI/AAAAAAAABNU/ekBW0SSXV8w57UxxkTVVsPGkWiRSRzCjgCEwYBhgL/s400/IMG_2359.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ocean Sunset</td></tr></tbody></table><i>June</i><br /><br />I certainly have not lacked for<a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.com/2018/06/here-there-and-everywhere.html" target="_blank"> things to do</a> this first year of retirement. Considering how concerned I was about <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.com/2018/04/how-i-tricked-myself-into-retiring.html" target="_blank">making the leap</a> to retirement, I have to say that I am the most surprised of everyone to discover how much I love being retired. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WhJjeiApxRk/WznJjlfJ-cI/AAAAAAAABNs/Jkw-ppdqaUgkM2QGk6-2iwt5G0JdP0YrwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2616.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WhJjeiApxRk/WznJjlfJ-cI/AAAAAAAABNs/Jkw-ppdqaUgkM2QGk6-2iwt5G0JdP0YrwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2616.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate Enjoys my Retirement Too</td></tr></tbody></table>It has been interesting to look back over the year. Despite the stresses of packing up and moving to a new place, and despite my fears about throwing my career away if I retired, I would have to say that my retirement transition has been extremely positive this first year. I am glad that I retired, and I really like living on Vancouver Island!<br /><br />Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-57469617951832159112018-06-13T17:25:00.002-06:002018-06-13T17:27:38.240-06:00Here, There, and EverywhereWell, so much has been going on that I hardly know where to start. Since I last posted (a month ago!), I have been here, there, and everywhere.<br /><br />In May, I flew to Illinois to attend a conference. On the way, I spent a lovely day in Vancouver with one of my best friends, and then my daughter and I went out for a fabulous dinner.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nqWaVhekQ4U/WyGYC_3vQtI/AAAAAAAABG8/rqpBTT4Yx9oyWwoYH8WqKe4-WdOD3H2PwCK4BGAYYCw/s1600/IMG_2466.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nqWaVhekQ4U/WyGYC_3vQtI/AAAAAAAABG8/rqpBTT4Yx9oyWwoYH8WqKe4-WdOD3H2PwCK4BGAYYCw/s400/IMG_2466.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the Beautiful Buildings at the University of Illinois</td></tr></tbody></table>&nbsp;The conference itself was great, and I enjoyed it. I came away inspired to do more academic work!<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SRIlJkg_mF8/WyGYq4RldBI/AAAAAAAABHE/djf0JsZ650krDWTZcwOkt6VZW48Vv8nsQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2467.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SRIlJkg_mF8/WyGYq4RldBI/AAAAAAAABHE/djf0JsZ650krDWTZcwOkt6VZW48Vv8nsQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2467.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Interior Detail in the Lobby of the Building Where I Gave my Presentation</td></tr></tbody></table>One of the highlights of the last month was a visit from my Mom and brother. We had them for almost a week, and it was so nice to spend time together and visit.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sg38lm5Z6gk/WyGZ9cNv15I/AAAAAAAABHQ/yjyQsKKwxmg-yB5FyibWC6W1Ak6WJGO4QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2523.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sg38lm5Z6gk/WyGZ9cNv15I/AAAAAAAABHQ/yjyQsKKwxmg-yB5FyibWC6W1Ak6WJGO4QCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2523.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Mom and my Son</td></tr></tbody></table>My Mom has health issues, and is on oxygen 24/7. But she was a trooper, and we went shopping and tried out some of the Vancouver Island dining hot spots. The weather was nice while they were here, and the rhododendrons put on a show.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Iqc-xM4o2Es/WyGbMizlTRI/AAAAAAAABHo/BqbZTcwA6pE6wCaY_B3xQhf41WkTAYr7wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2566.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Iqc-xM4o2Es/WyGbMizlTRI/AAAAAAAABHo/BqbZTcwA6pE6wCaY_B3xQhf41WkTAYr7wCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2566.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Family Dinner</td></tr></tbody></table>People came from near and far, and we got together for a big family dinner.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ujY4naxk7yE/WyGcFyMWAsI/AAAAAAAABH8/_T-d0wfOab0k1c7k0r-_aI8Txa4XTKk9ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2572.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ujY4naxk7yE/WyGcFyMWAsI/AAAAAAAABH8/_T-d0wfOab0k1c7k0r-_aI8Txa4XTKk9ACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2572.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Erica and Tony</td></tr></tbody></table>My brother checked out several great hikes in this part of the Island while he was here. The photo above shows one of them that Tony, Erica and I did one afternoon on the Enos Lakes trails. My brother is an amazing guy, and I know my Mom really appreciated the chance to travel here with him.<br /><br />The day after Mom and Tony left, we spent the day mountain biking with friends who were on a holiday on the Island. The weather promised rain that day, but fortunately the rain held off for our ride and picnic.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u5Krt103LIw/WyGeMFJ2MhI/AAAAAAAABIQ/RMkydSDX55UItR_5b1H2hHY0QooQiPhTQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2585.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u5Krt103LIw/WyGeMFJ2MhI/AAAAAAAABIQ/RMkydSDX55UItR_5b1H2hHY0QooQiPhTQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2585.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Op Beside the Englishman River</td></tr></tbody></table>We spent one weekend doing volunteer work for our service club. On the day of the event, one of the club members and I flipped more than 600 pancakes! Rob reported for duty at 6 am and manned the coffee station (yes, that meant we had to set the alarm clock, ugg).<br /><br />A couple of days later, we had lunch with some longtime friends from northern BC. They were visiting in the area. We are trying to talk them into moving here. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eY_GFfTC1BY/WyGgubotsNI/AAAAAAAABIk/PZPrH9CA28s6isupD70otdChSMrQ6wVSACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2588.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eY_GFfTC1BY/WyGgubotsNI/AAAAAAAABIk/PZPrH9CA28s6isupD70otdChSMrQ6wVSACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_2588.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting Together for Lunch</td></tr></tbody></table>And that is not all! During this same period, my son accepted a job offer in a city elsewhere in BC. He started work the week before Tony and Mom arrived, and made a long drive back on the weekend so he wouldn't miss their visit.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XKgQeYV8myc/WyGjMbgaR6I/AAAAAAAABI4/lFinTiXF148Rxw6rvsXHpyQa_fKvU7xgACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2422.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XKgQeYV8myc/WyGjMbgaR6I/AAAAAAAABI4/lFinTiXF148Rxw6rvsXHpyQa_fKvU7xgACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2422.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the Harbour</td></tr></tbody></table>We all got together before he moved to celebrate the new job. We went for fish &amp; chips and a walk around the harbour. Last week, Rob and I made a two-day road trip to bring him his furniture and boxes of stuff.&nbsp;<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x8zYpx89eAU/WyGks9hKrlI/AAAAAAAABJE/42YG5O759z0Y5s7kO6DkU67HNBajhx9qgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2592.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x8zYpx89eAU/WyGks9hKrlI/AAAAAAAABJE/42YG5O759z0Y5s7kO6DkU67HNBajhx9qgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2592.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loading the Truck</td></tr></tbody></table>Of course, it poured rain as we went through Vancouver. It is a good thing that Rob tied the tarp down so well. Nothing got wet.<br /><br />And that's still not all! There's the garden! The novel! Numerous hikes and a picnic, and more. But most of that will have to wait for another post.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bnGDOqDEJmg/WyGmGouK5FI/AAAAAAAABJg/WzsJUqvn4AgUPGNHoqF8lUHo9QPMBMkKQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2485.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bnGDOqDEJmg/WyGmGouK5FI/AAAAAAAABJg/WzsJUqvn4AgUPGNHoqF8lUHo9QPMBMkKQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2485.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picnic by the Ocean. Yes, There was Food Too - Not Just Wine!</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-79942984076772929542018-05-12T23:13:00.002-06:002018-05-12T23:13:28.722-06:00Announcing Notch Hill Art<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lwZXznRkNjQ/Wvd5E2wEtjI/AAAAAAAABE4/wJC64WCytKg1RtcNz1_G-a45qR7ptOxfACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1571.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lwZXznRkNjQ/Wvd5E2wEtjI/AAAAAAAABE4/wJC64WCytKg1RtcNz1_G-a45qR7ptOxfACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1571.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jude and her paintings at the Spring Showcase</td></tr></tbody></table><b>Spring Showcase</b><br /><br />At the beginning of this year, I joined the <a href="http://www.nanoosebaystudiotour.com/index.php" target="_blank">Nanoose Bay Studio Tour</a>. This is a group of artists and artisans on Vancouver Island that hosts three art events a year -- a Spring Showcase, a Thanksgiving Studio Tour, and a Christmas Crawl. In 2017, I participated in the Thanksgiving tour as a <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?tab=wj&amp;blogID=2137356124184306084#editor/target=post;postID=5353996566925726675;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=3;src=postname" target="_blank">guest artist</a>.<br /><br />The Spring Showcase is a weekend event held in the community centre. All the artists set up their booths in this central location and welcome the public to the event. This year, we also held an opening reception on the Friday evening, with wine, a caterer, and live music. Donna from <a href="https://www.retirementreflections.com/" target="_blank">Retirement Reflections</a>, and lots of other friends attended.<br /><br />The other two events are studio driving tours. Over each weekend, people take a driving tour to the participating studios. The advantage of the showcase is that everything is available in one place. The advantage of the tours is that people get to see the studios where the artists work, and their private galleries.<br /><br />I am thrilled to be part of this wonderful group of artists. The group is super friendly and supportive. There is a wide range of beautiful art represented, including glass blowing, stained glass, pottery, jewellery, bonsai, woodwork, metal sculpture, mixed media, and photography, along with painters such as myself. One of the highlights for me on the showcase weekend was getting to know the other artists a little better. It also was fun chatting with all the people who came by to look at my display.<br /><br />Rob's hoardings <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2018/04/world-building.html" target="_blank">that he built</a> for displaying my paintings were easy to set up and they looked great painted black. I forgot to take a picture of them before hanging the paintings! But if you look at the photos carefully, you can see them.<br /><br />On the last day of the showcase, my daughter Erica and my friend Wendy came over from Vancouver to see the show. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jgU9G-htvJQ/Wve9gkAFhHI/AAAAAAAABFQ/_WFqvCPf3SEaMlnY9zzWvPWJLxBulcYpgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2343.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jgU9G-htvJQ/Wve9gkAFhHI/AAAAAAAABFQ/_WFqvCPf3SEaMlnY9zzWvPWJLxBulcYpgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_2343.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Erica and Wendy at the Spring Showcase</td></tr></tbody></table>Sunday evening, after taking down the show, we went out for a lovely dinner.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x6ncDT1vrag/Wve-RDyRoII/AAAAAAAABFY/8TrDmXB4Us4QheeCoYMcys8DJnc3dYy5wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2344.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x6ncDT1vrag/Wve-RDyRoII/AAAAAAAABFY/8TrDmXB4Us4QheeCoYMcys8DJnc3dYy5wCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2344.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celebrating after the show</td></tr></tbody></table><b>Notch Hill Art</b><br /><br />I am thrilled to announce that my new studio and gallery, <a href="https://www.notchhillart.com/" target="_blank">Notch Hill Art</a>, will be open for business at the beginning of June. I have hung the paintings and set up the gallery space. <br /><br />Erica has built me a wonderful&nbsp; artist's website for Notch Hill Art. To look at my collection of paintings, click <a href="https://www.notchhillart.com/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br /><br /><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rYiLE93M50o/Wve_gOf0uEI/AAAAAAAABFk/T9Hju3mlnGwnj4nG_Jz46zCDOyDuNP6OwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2243.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="504" data-original-width="762" height="131" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rYiLE93M50o/Wve_gOf0uEI/AAAAAAAABFk/T9Hju3mlnGwnj4nG_Jz46zCDOyDuNP6OwCLcBGAs/s200/IMG_2243.JPG" width="200" /></a>If you are in the area and would like to come and visit me in my studio, you can contact me through the website to arrange a time. The website includes a <a href="https://www.notchhillart.com/blog/" target="_blank">blog</a> where I write about my current art projects and shows. Also, my paintings are available for sale via the website. I have provided a link to the <a href="https://www.notchhillart.com/" target="_blank">Notch Hill Art website</a> in the sidebar of my blog, so you can find it easily.<br /><br />I will be participating in the Nanoose Bay Studio Tour's Thanksgiving Tour and the Christmas Crawl this year. It is exciting to embark on this new adventure. There are so many gorgeous views in this area and I am looking forward to painting them.<br /><br /><br />Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-12948099332688128112018-04-22T11:49:00.000-06:002018-04-22T15:09:01.892-06:00How I Tricked Myself into Retiring<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kSaMUmL7lAQ/WtuyBL_9zqI/AAAAAAAABEY/WTrIpXokE2oKt--vuUQvpz47a4NcASnDQCLcBGAs/s1600/url.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kSaMUmL7lAQ/WtuyBL_9zqI/AAAAAAAABEY/WTrIpXokE2oKt--vuUQvpz47a4NcASnDQCLcBGAs/s400/url.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Dear readers, if you have been following posts on my blog, you will know that I am a recent but happy retiree. The person who is <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2017/01/wrote-letter-set-date.html" target="_blank">most surprised</a> about this is me.<br /><br />You see, during my career, I was the classic workaholic. I used to joke about it. "I am so busy. I have so much to do. Work, work, work -- that defines my life. I must be a bit of a workaholic."<br /><br />I used to come home weeping with exhaustion after 12 and 14 hour days, when I had not had time to step away from the computer or eat a meal. We routinely ate dinner at 8:00 or 9:00 at night, because I seldom came home before 7:00 or 8:00 pm. Our family and friends lived far away, and although I made quick trips to visit as often as I could and kept in touch by phone, it was not enough. I was constantly frustrated that I did not have enough time for exercise or creative endeavours. The stress and the pace began to affect my health.<br /><br />But, for all of that, I really didn't think that there was all that much wrong with my life. Or maybe it was more that I couldn't imagine that there was any other way to be. The big educational institutions where I had pursued my career had socialized me into excessive work as a lifestyle. I looked around and saw all of my peers working the same crazy long hours that I was. As we ran past each other in the hallways, our typical conversations went something like this:<br /><br />"How are you?"<br />"Busy. Just unbelievably busy. How about you?"<br />"Me too. Busy, busy, busy. I'm dealing with the X crisis and the Y crisis, and I thought we had a solution for the Z crisis, but there's a new wrinkle, and it has to be dealt with today."<br />"Well. I have to go. I have three back-to-back meetings, and I'm double booked over lunch hour."<br />"Yeah, I'm racing to a meeting too, and I'll be here all weekend for the W event."<br />"Good luck." <br />"Take care."<br /><br />As much as I tried to seek a better balance between my work life and personal life, the work demands were urgent and unrelenting.<br /><br />Besides, I loved my career. I had spent decades studying and working in different roles within the university system. I was deeply invested in being a professor, researcher, and administrator. I didn't know who I was apart from my work identity. I was afraid of giving it all up, only to discover that my career self was all that I was.<br /><br />When I began to realize that it was time to retire, I <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2016/10/possible-lives.html" target="_blank">struggled</a> with the decision. I remember that I started to write a blog post around that time called: "Throwing My Life Away." I never published it because it was so bleak and despairing.<br /><br />Everybody's different, but for me, one part of the solution involved retiring in stages. The other part involved making a cognitive shift. Essentially, I tricked myself into retiring. To find out about my self-trickery, continue reading<a href="https://www.retirementreflections.com/guest-post-dr-socks-third-career/" target="_blank"> here</a>.<br /><br />I am thrilled to have been invited to guest host on Donna's blog, <a href="https://www.retirementreflections.com/" target="_blank">Retirement Reflections</a>, once again. Please visit me there and <a href="https://www.retirementreflections.com/guest-post-dr-socks-third-career/" target="_blank">read my post</a>.<br /><br /><br />Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-6458676254395701722018-04-07T16:08:00.001-06:002018-04-07T16:08:11.451-06:00World BuildingIt is less than three weeks until the <a href="http://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2018/03/time-for-art.html" target="_blank">art show</a> that I will be participating in. The show opens on Friday evening, April 27, with a special event, and it is open to the public all day on Saturday, April 28 and Sunday, April 29. Rob, dear person that he is, has been busy in his workshop building me a modular framework ("hoardings," he calls them) to set up in the 10'x10' booth so that I have somewhere to hang my paintings.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XVg75sezdhY/Wsk3sb1djsI/AAAAAAAABCM/OY4AMju3AuchDQhwqVT-GYtRCMNcG6rbwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2238.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XVg75sezdhY/Wsk3sb1djsI/AAAAAAAABCM/OY4AMju3AuchDQhwqVT-GYtRCMNcG6rbwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2238.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Building the Hoarding</td></tr></tbody></table>&nbsp;I have lots to do to get ready. As I <a href="http://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2018/03/time-for-art.html" target="_blank">mentioned before</a>, over several weeks I have spent hours photographing my works, editing the photos, organizing them, and preparing them for my art website that is under development. I unpacked a couple more moving boxes to find some more of my paintings. (I still haven't found all of them.) But there is soooo much left to do to get ready, and I have not been ticking many items off the to-do list.<br /><br />So what have I been doing if not getting ready for the art show? Well, skiing. The spring skiing has been fabulous. We have been going skiing a couple of times a week with friends, and last weekend I had a chance to ski with my son and daughter.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AcKHu9r2F7U/Wsk5CORU5nI/AAAAAAAABCY/qsPHI5bHMHEzHT0_mSnFkmMqLVAkx0m7QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2229.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AcKHu9r2F7U/Wsk5CORU5nI/AAAAAAAABCY/qsPHI5bHMHEzHT0_mSnFkmMqLVAkx0m7QCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2229.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunny Day at the Ski Hill</td></tr></tbody></table>&nbsp;We also did some house stuff. Our new living room furniture finally was delivered. We replaced and upgraded two toilets. We replaced an item damaged in the move. All of this required much moving of furniture, reorganizing, and cleaning. There have been the usual things like car maintenance, doctor's appointment, tax prep, and grocery shopping. As well, I progressed on some academic writing projects, completing two of them recently. <br /><br />My service group sponsored an Easter Egg Hunt, which I helped with. I hosted and cooked a family dinner for Easter. As well, I have participated in dog walks, attended a community talk, and spent time with my grandsons.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oWqfiIC2yeo/Wsk7QXqbrRI/AAAAAAAABC4/ramx5c8Cwcw369wn8eaYipkTxB-PVb-SACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2178.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oWqfiIC2yeo/Wsk7QXqbrRI/AAAAAAAABC4/ramx5c8Cwcw369wn8eaYipkTxB-PVb-SACLcBGAs/s200/IMG_2178.JPG" width="150" /></a></div><br /><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--I_fiFiSZhw/Wsk6yQbh_gI/AAAAAAAABCs/JqEbLJojATYvTMgCwS7IV50Mx79oZx5sACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--I_fiFiSZhw/Wsk6yQbh_gI/AAAAAAAABCs/JqEbLJojATYvTMgCwS7IV50Mx79oZx5sACLcBGAs/s200/IMG_0015.JPG" width="200" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And there's more! Here is some exciting news. A friend and I are part of a new local writing group that has just formed. I recently attended a "meet and greet" organized by the Federation of BC Writers, and the people present at that event decided to organize ourselves into a writers' group. We have had our first official meeting.<br /><br />I am so excited about writing again that I have resumed working on <a href="http://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2017/11/why-i-enjoy-writing-fiction.html" target="_blank">my novel</a>. I have finished chapter 26 and am starting on chapter 27. I am getting near the end! Of course, once the first draft is done, the revisions begin, and I cannot say that I am looking forward to revisions.&nbsp;<br /><br />The other night, I wrote until late at night, finishing chapter 26. As I drifted off to sleep, my head was swirling with ideas and fragments of paragraphs to write in chapter 27. But then I woke up with a problem. (I guess my brain had been working on the novel while I slept.) I realized that my timelines did not line up properly for the plot to unfold the way that I had planned.<br /><br />You would think that in a novel that takes place decades into the future, timelines would be pretty flexible. However, throughout the book, I have been building a world. And in the logic of this world, I have created the necessity for certain events to unfold a certain way.<br /><br />There were two main time sequencing issues. Two characters are having babies, a couple of months apart from each other. Somehow, I had miscounted the due date for the first birth by several weeks. I couldn't just change the date easily, because I had already written about the birth and tied it closely to a certain season of the year. I had also miscounted the due date of the second birth, in this case only by about two weeks, but this also was problematic because I am intending for the mother to be doing something during the plot climax that is very physically grueling, and she would not have planned to do it if she had just given birth. Just as in real life, these fictional babies are being born at inconvenient times!<br /><br />So the next day, instead of steaming along writing chapter 27, I spent hours recalculating the math for the dates of the births and other events. I corrected my timeline notes. Then, I went back and read through several chapters, and made corrections so the timelines would work out.<br /><br />With this novel, I have kept a number of files of notes, supplementary to the novel. I have a list of characters with details like their age, appearance, relationship with other characters and so on. I have made a timeline of major social and political events in my imaginary world, both preceding and following the period in which my story takes place. I have written notes about the backstory. I have a list of chapter names along with the page of the manuscript on which each chapter starts.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XsMhc25C12k/Wsk8mZYj1jI/AAAAAAAABDI/jcjULhN3D1UcWtIbsGG1CNRDEqu0wTDZACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2234.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XsMhc25C12k/Wsk8mZYj1jI/AAAAAAAABDI/jcjULhN3D1UcWtIbsGG1CNRDEqu0wTDZACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_2234.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Supplementary Notes</td></tr></tbody></table>Some of my notes are very messy and scribbled. For example, I have drawn a rough map of the geographical area where my characters live. About two chapters into the writing, I realized that I needed to keep a timeline of the major events in the story, which takes place over the period of a year. I labelled the day on which the story starts as "Day 1." Quite a bit further along in my writing, I realized that seasons were going to be important in this imaginary world, so I went back and re-labelled Day 1, Day 2, etc., with dates, arbitrarily starting the story on November 16. Although I had a rough plot outline when I started this novel, I mostly have invented the story and the details of my story world as I went along.<br /><br />For those of you who write fiction, how do you keep track of events and their sequence in a piece of writing as long and complicated as a novel? I would be curious to know about your method. I imagine that dates would be especially tricky to manage in historical fiction, and also when writing a memoir or biography. I look forward to your comments.&nbsp;<br /><br />And, yes, I am <a href="http://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2018/01/fighting-creative-muse.html" target="_blank">avoiding</a> doing my art by writing instead. Perverse, I know, but at least the creative juices are flowing. Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-74334546646166734332018-03-22T17:37:00.002-06:002018-03-22T17:37:34.701-06:00Counting Eagles<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TR5jgxWxFW0/WrQmho9FC1I/AAAAAAAABAs/rMsczz25zvgT56v79KGTjRFs8MQL9b_rwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="265" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TR5jgxWxFW0/WrQmho9FC1I/AAAAAAAABAs/rMsczz25zvgT56v79KGTjRFs8MQL9b_rwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1565.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Vancouver Island Photographer, Rainer Willeke</td></tr></tbody></table>In the morning when I sit at my dining table having breakfast, I look out over a forest of trees to a distant patch of sunlit ocean, backed by snow-topped ice-cream mountains. Often ravens are having conversations in the tall evergreens, and once in a while an eagle wheels overhead, just beyond my backyard. There is a little lake out of sight behind the trees, and I like to think that the eagle is swooping down to fish there, but more likely it is scanning the road at the back of our place, looking for roadkill.&nbsp;<br /><br />One of the things I love about being back at the BC coast again is seeing eagles. Lately we have been making regular trips to our local ski hill to go for an afternoon of skiing. This involves a drive up the coast, and then up into the mountains. It takes a little more than an hour. On the way I count eagles. (Note that I am not driving while I count. Rob drives to the hill, and I drive home.)<br /><br />I always see at least one, and I have counted as many as six eagles on the drive. I have learned to look for their favourite perches, high up on dead branches. They like to position themselves where they can overlook both a stream and the highway. Open patches of field also are favoured. Sometimes I see hawks as well as eagles. I am speculating that the number I see on any given day depends on whether the tide is in or out. The Island Highway is just a few kilometers from the ocean in most sections, and when the tide is out, there is lots for the eagles to eat in the tidal pools.<br /><br />This retirement gig is pretty awesome! I am grateful everyday that I get to be in this place and do the the things that I do. Skiing, for example. I have written before that skiing is part of my <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2014/12/fall-down.html" target="_blank">identity story</a>. I love to ski. I have had some <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2015/12/the-mind-thinks-it-body.html" target="_blank">injuries </a>that sidelined me from skiing for periods of a year or more, and nearly a decade ago, I even had one doctor tell me that I would never ski again. So now I ski much more cautiously, and am thankful for every additional year that I get to be on the ski hill.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DRrFK6zNHLk/WrQ1PlCcUnI/AAAAAAAABBE/Nq9caRFqoJ8HzGFPqoLShhvz_Eh5gbnAACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DRrFK6zNHLk/WrQ1PlCcUnI/AAAAAAAABBE/Nq9caRFqoJ8HzGFPqoLShhvz_Eh5gbnAACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2011.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Happy Skier</td></tr></tbody></table>We have met some new friends here who like to ski, and have had great fun meeting them at the hill. Later we debate the problems of the world in a bar or restaurant.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uH3lDRZ0F2A/WrQ2klQjYSI/AAAAAAAABBQ/mgeUGAmVwx4VNl0VfifHSW7D8K_oWnLBgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uH3lDRZ0F2A/WrQ2klQjYSI/AAAAAAAABBQ/mgeUGAmVwx4VNl0VfifHSW7D8K_oWnLBgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2101.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Trusty Skiing Partner</td></tr></tbody></table>Of course, not every day is a perfect day. Sometimes things break -- one of our toilets, to be exact, and we have been waiting for a week to get a plumber. Or technology decides to drive me crazy. For example, my mobile phone has decided that it no longer wants to communicate with my computer. So I can't upload my photos, just when I am trying to organize and edit my painting photos for my <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2018/03/time-for-art.html" target="_blank">art website</a>.<br /><br />The sun does not shine everyday. This is the west (wet) coast. However, we put on our raincoats and boots, and out we go anyways.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WaqwDi6_buM/WrQ4T0_LraI/AAAAAAAABBk/vyyhDY4XflULUL8F15oKhK13p8LRNRXfgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2156.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WaqwDi6_buM/WrQ4T0_LraI/AAAAAAAABBk/vyyhDY4XflULUL8F15oKhK13p8LRNRXfgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2156.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thursday Dog Walking Group</td></tr></tbody></table><br />This morning most of the hardy members of my weekly dog walking group showed up despite the threat of rain. That is my dog, Kate, in the foreground. And yes! The smiling person on the left is Donna of <a href="https://www.retirementreflections.com/" target="_blank">Retirement Reflections</a>. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-53539965669257266752018-03-10T23:10:00.001-07:002018-03-10T23:31:30.529-07:00Time For ArtAll of my life, it seems that I have had to fit art in around the edges of my life. Sometimes, there were multi-year gaps when I did no art. I could usually find time for a little art or a little writing, but not both.<br /><br />So when I retired, I planned to <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2016/10/possible-lives.html" target="_blank">devote a lot more time</a> to those twin passions of writing and art. When looking for a place to retire, the natural beauty of the location was an important consideration, as was choosing a house that would have space that I could use as a painting studio. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Kisj0dI_raY/Wd22DcVOOeI/AAAAAAAAAzs/KCbpH2geqoQG0r0OvTrCZ6kEBkVH3v2WACK4BGAYYCw/s1600/IMG_0882.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Kisj0dI_raY/Wd22DcVOOeI/AAAAAAAAAzs/KCbpH2geqoQG0r0OvTrCZ6kEBkVH3v2WACK4BGAYYCw/s400/IMG_0882.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Silhouette of Garry Oak</td></tr></tbody></table>The part of Vancouver Island where we have relocated to is glorious. It is a rural area on the coast that has a little town centre and a strong sense of community. There is a network of trails right outside my door, and I go walking on them several times a week. I take photos on my walks, often thinking that I might use the images later as references for a painting. I have noticed several spots, not too far away, that would great for setting up my easel and doing plein air painting.<br /><br />For example, the photo below shows of one of my favourite places along the trails. It is a rocky green meadow high above a lake, fringed with evergreens, Garry oaks, and arbutus trees. A little seasonal stream runs through it. I took this photograph on my walk this afternoon.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OUdXsbdBUDc/WqS8SP06gwI/AAAAAAAAA_8/lv-A5sTQXJwMyXQTFJJ-Bb32JU_wnLIqwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OUdXsbdBUDc/WqS8SP06gwI/AAAAAAAAA_8/lv-A5sTQXJwMyXQTFJJ-Bb32JU_wnLIqwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2026.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meadow above the Lake</td></tr></tbody></table>Along with spectacular views to paint, there is a strong community of artists in the area. In the Fall, I was invited to participate as a guest artist in a weekend art show. Although I exhibited in many juried shows and other group art shows from 1994-2004, and also had a number of solo shows of my work during that period, in recent years I have little time to exhibit. So I was thrilled to be able to participate. I put together some paintings to display, which happened to be the first 21 paintings that came out of the moving boxes. Many of the rest still have not emerged from the boxes yet. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-at8gEY7q0uo/Wd22IcNSwMI/AAAAAAAAAz0/aBn_bkAoUSoG202piYLPQI1XNVjBkos_gCK4BGAYYCw/s1600/IMG_0901.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-at8gEY7q0uo/Wd22IcNSwMI/AAAAAAAAAz0/aBn_bkAoUSoG202piYLPQI1XNVjBkos_gCK4BGAYYCw/s400/IMG_0901.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Paintings at the Studio Art Tour</td></tr></tbody></table>It was wonderful getting to know the other artists, as well as members of the community who came to the art show. Recently, I formally became a member of the art group. This group hosts studio tours during the year, when members of the public are invited to visit the artists in their home studios and see their work. I have already set up the working part of my home studio, but still need to hang my paintings in the section that will be the gallery. <br /><br />With the help of my daughter, who is an artist and web developer, I have been working on building an artist's website. Unfortunately, over the years, I have not done a good job of documenting my work photographically, or keeping track of all the data about each painting. So over the last few weeks, I have spent many hours sorting through the photos of paintings that I do have (retrieving them from my database of more than 17,000 digital photos!), labelling them, and making them website ready. I need to photograph many paintings for which I do not have digital photos, or only poor quality ones. There is a lot of other "behind the scenes" work in setting up a studio/gallery and being part of a formal group.<br /><br />It all takes a lot of time. But, I am happy to report that I have <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2018/01/fighting-creative-muse.html" target="_blank">finally</a> picked up my brushes and started painting again. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SUm_SXRxYIw/WqTGE4VaLiI/AAAAAAAABAU/WNuj7opAiHomEHVxtnFJmUL4y_IXHuNQQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_2008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SUm_SXRxYIw/WqTGE4VaLiI/AAAAAAAABAU/WNuj7opAiHomEHVxtnFJmUL4y_IXHuNQQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_2008.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Painting in Progress in my Studio</td></tr></tbody></table>I hope to announce my new website soon. Stay tuned for details about our upcoming Spring Showcase.<br /><br />Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-89880224605652052342018-02-06T19:21:00.000-07:002018-02-06T19:21:05.223-07:00Restrictive DietsI love food. I come from a family that <a href="http://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2012/12/food-is-love.html" target="_blank">loves food</a>. I also enjoy cooking. Some of my happiest memories are of family dinners, or dinners with a group of friends -- everyone gathered around the table eating a feast that is the culmination of a day in the kitchen, laughing, talking, and drinking wine.<br /><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yKwrwsIyOnI/WnpI4fSIIYI/AAAAAAAAA-s/jlYcGWyXSwg_R7Ydre03b7-wqGsFpRGIACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1524.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yKwrwsIyOnI/WnpI4fSIIYI/AAAAAAAAA-s/jlYcGWyXSwg_R7Ydre03b7-wqGsFpRGIACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1524.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Holiday Feast</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I am one of those nerdy people that takes photos of my food at a nice restaurant.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iHTqXRWzwxc/WnpID_9fx4I/AAAAAAAAA-k/T_Uy_Jksc108imtvpMFPx9ORIK1uw4GNQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1244.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iHTqXRWzwxc/WnpID_9fx4I/AAAAAAAAA-k/T_Uy_Jksc108imtvpMFPx9ORIK1uw4GNQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1244.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Airport Fare </td></tr></tbody></table><br />Even if it is just Rob, my son, and me for dinner, I like to plan something that has a creative twist almost every time I cook. For example, last night my theme was Eastern European. We had pan-fried, crumb coated pork loin chops with mushrooms, potato latkes with sour cream and apple sauce, beets, and french bread. The latkes were the creative twist. Instead of using grated potato only when I made them, I also grated in some parsnip and a bit of fresh ginger (a James Barber recipe). They were yummy. Unfortunately, I didn't take a photo of the meal. <br /><br />I remember my paternal grandmother, who passed away when I was six, as being a fabulous cook. All of her daughters (my aunts) carried on the tradition. My Mom also is a very good cook, and she taught my siblings and me to cook and bake, and let us experiment in the kitchen. My siblings are all great cooks and so are my adult children.<br /><br />Although I grew up in a northern, fairly remote small town, my parents encouraged adventures in eating. From a young age, we ate local fish and game (moose, grouse, venison, smoked salmon), whatever ethnic foods were available (pickled pigs feet, pickled herring, kippers), and foods that most of my peers did not (stuffed beef heart, oysters, blue cheese, hot pickles). My parents had a large garden and grew their own vegetables, fruits, and <a href="http://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2016/07/raspberries.html" target="_blank">berries</a>, which my Mom preserved for the winter. We also gathered wild huckleberries, mushrooms, and so on. My Mom baked almost every day -- squares, cookies, cakes, pies, and specialties like cream puffs and jellyroll.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oBMmS-CsXis/WnpJXfh6LeI/AAAAAAAAA-w/2iGlX6CQWww9YmoRADzq8OEe2p_o6oKjACLcBGAs/s1600/20171225_191955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oBMmS-CsXis/WnpJXfh6LeI/AAAAAAAAA-w/2iGlX6CQWww9YmoRADzq8OEe2p_o6oKjACLcBGAs/s640/20171225_191955.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pumpkin Pie and Banana Cream Pie</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Having once been a child, then a parent, and now a grandparent, I know that small children sometimes are reluctant to try new foods. My Mom had a sensible approach. She never forced us to eat, but she did have two rules. 1. If we served ourselves something, we had to eat it. (She encouraged us to take a small helping, and if we wished, to have seconds.) 2. We had to at least taste every item in the meal -- a mouthful or teaspoon-sized amount. She also, very shrewdly, limited our access to snacks during the day, so that when we sat to the table, we were hungry. Hunger is a wonderful appetite enhancer!<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xn9mRXY3eGA/WnpJvEfwN_I/AAAAAAAAA-4/C6xlOkM4RfEcEiyaVjSuCv8ztgwy3QCBQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1608.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xn9mRXY3eGA/WnpJvEfwN_I/AAAAAAAAA-4/C6xlOkM4RfEcEiyaVjSuCv8ztgwy3QCBQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1608.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baking Cookies With Grandma</td></tr></tbody></table><br />My parents also took us out to restaurants from a young age. We were expected to sit up nicely and behave ourselves. If someone made a fuss, my Mom took the misbehaving child out to the car and stayed there with them until they were ready to rejoin the rest of the family in the restaurant. We also learned that when we went out to dinner to someone's home, we should use our best manners, eat whatever we were served without complaint, thank the hostess, and offer to help with the dishes. <br /><br />We often had extra people around our dinner table. Dad would arrive home from work with someone travelling through town who needed a good meal. Or one of us kids would invite a friend to stay for dinner. One of my brother's friends came home from college with him for a visit and stayed for a year. When my best friend's family moved to a town two hours down the road, she started coming to stay for the weekend every second weekend. Friday night was usually steak night, so our friends especially liked being there for dinner on Fridays.<br /><br />In adulthood, I have continued the tradition of cooking for people and hosting dinners. In one place that we lived, Rob and I were part of a dinner club that was a lot of fun. Each month a different couple in the group hosted a dinner for everyone.<br /><br />Through the dinner club experience, I learned that a lot has changed with respect to group eating behaviour since I was child. It seemed that most of the people in the club were on some type of restrictive diet. The group included a vegetarian, a person who couldn't eat dairy, a person with a sensitivity to eggs, a person with a sensitivity to sweet peppers (me), and a person who didn't eat any fruits or vegetables on the "dirty dozen" list (unless organically grown). It made it tricky to plan a dinner that would please everyone. I was just about ready to quit when one of the members developed a health issue and was supposed to avoid all fats and all green vegetables!<br /><br />As a cook, I find that restrictive diets limit my creative options. I like to develop menus that will please the eye as well as the palate, that <a href="http://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2014/05/real-food.html" target="_blank">use local ingredients</a>, and that are healthy. Rob and my son are appreciative diners, and fun to cook for. As a diner myself, I am easy to feed. (If I am served something with peppers in it, I just pick them out and put them on the side of my plate.)<br /><br />I do not have a lot of patience for restrictive diets. I understand that sometimes the restrictive diets are prescribed because of health issues. I do my best to accommodate people's dietary preferences because I like spending time with friends and family members, and cooking for them is a way of showing them that I care about them.<br /><br />However, I have never chosen to put myself on a restrictive dietary regimen. For example, I have never been on a weight loss diet. That doesn't mean that I am a glutton, or that I chow down on excessive amounts of red meat. I am very interested in the relationship between nutrition and health, and I care about eating in an environmentally sustainable way. I also try to notice if I am developing unhealthy eating habits, and to <a href="http://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2013/03/doctor-socks-heart-healthy-habits-for.html" target="_blank">change those habits</a>. That said, moderation is my guide, and I am willing to try most foods.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3DEGlCa6XQ/WnpKHwArqEI/AAAAAAAAA_A/Cw-GOtq8cdI4geTcJZ7TAX1zsd_xnyKLwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0321.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3DEGlCa6XQ/WnpKHwArqEI/AAAAAAAAA_A/Cw-GOtq8cdI4geTcJZ7TAX1zsd_xnyKLwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_0321.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eating Up the Contents of the Freezer Before our Move: Mussels and Steamed Dumplings</td></tr></tbody></table><br />During my recent years of excessive overwork, I developed some health symptoms that were worrisome, among them sharp abdominal pains. I went through a bunch of medical tests which ruled out some of the scarier possibilities, but did not provide any answers. The last specialist that I saw suggested that I try out a low <a href="https://www.dietvsdisease.org/low-fodmaps-food-list/" target="_blank">FODMAP</a> diet. Apparently, there are a number of components in food that some people have difficulty digesting. <br /><br />My symptoms are not consistent and do not exactly match any of the common diagnoses. But a person does not have pain attacks for no reason. So now, for the first time in my life, I am on a restrictive diet. My plan is to try to adhere closely to the <a href="https://www.dietvsdisease.org/diy-low-fodmap-diet/" target="_blank">low FODMAP diet</a> for about six weeks, and then when the abdominal symptoms disappear, I will gradually begin to add various foods back in one at a time so see if there is a particular food or foods that my gut is reacting to.<br /><br />Harrumph! We will see how it goes. <br /><br />Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-18417018437464174802018-01-24T15:08:00.001-07:002018-01-30T00:41:51.757-07:00Fighting the Creative Muse<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eBAUFG9XsSE/Wmj_A6jdqNI/AAAAAAAAA90/cU8sFxJ0g3gGZHg_4wq9X84vXUq0MefqACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eBAUFG9XsSE/Wmj_A6jdqNI/AAAAAAAAA90/cU8sFxJ0g3gGZHg_4wq9X84vXUq0MefqACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1689.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rainy Day at the Beach</td></tr></tbody></table>Since retiring in June, I have been having a fun, engaged life, and I love it. Although I have been careful to not agree to many regularly scheduled obligations this first year so as to avoid replicating my previous over-scheduled work life, I have been pretty active.<br /><br />For example, in the last couple of weeks, I have done the following: completed second language lessons in German or French daily, attended yoga twice a week, gone skiing twice, made a weekend trip to Vancouver to attend the Canadian national figure skating competition and visit friends, volunteered for a local service group, made arrangements to join a group of local artists, made plans to join a local social club, gone for hikes and walks, babysat my grandsons, gone out for a dinner and a coffee date, and completed two small academic writing projects.<br /><br />As well, Rob and I went for a beach walk on a rainy day, and I tried some new photography techniques. <br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4ZxGWYBpVd8/Wmj_aGn2nmI/AAAAAAAAA94/EctSpy2VR0wD96OhyDJtljtn9WqfbMcPACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1676.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4ZxGWYBpVd8/Wmj_aGn2nmI/AAAAAAAAA94/EctSpy2VR0wD96OhyDJtljtn9WqfbMcPACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1676.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Patterns in the Sand</td></tr></tbody></table><br />This is still a very relaxed pace compared to what I am used to. Most nights, I get nine hours of sleep. Most mornings, I sit around drinking coffee, doing my language lessons, and reading for a couple of hours before I even get out of my pajamas. <br /><br />But what I have not been doing is progressing on my creative writing and art projects. The last few days, I have felt restless. I have woken up grumpy, having had upsetting dreams about frustration and loss.<br /><br />"Uh-oh!" I am thinking. "Maybe the honeymoon period of retirement is coming to an end. Maybe I am now going into the part of the retirement transition when I will feel at a crossroads, not knowing what my purpose is."<br /><br />Karen Hume has written about the <a href="https://profoundjourney.com/transition-to-retirement-supposed-to-be-difficult/" target="_blank">retirement transition </a>as being a difficult time: "Your transition to retirement is&nbsp;<i>supposed</i> to hurt. If you are doing it right, there will be a lengthy period of chaos and loss occurring sometime in the first few years of retirement."<br /><br />So I was thrilled to read Kathy Gottberg's <a href="https://www.smartliving365.com/why-wait-until-retirement-to-live-a-rewarding-meaningful-and-purposeful-life/" target="_blank">most recent post</a>, "Why wait Until Retirement to Live A Rewarding, Meaningful, and Purposeful Life?" As I have written before, I have had trouble <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2016/09/finding-my-purpose_29.html#comment-form" target="_blank">defining my purpose</a>. In her post, Kathy writes about the concept of dharma, and specifically <a href="https://player.fm/series/hay-house-world-summit/stephen-cope-finding-your-dharma" target="_blank">Stephen Cope's</a> perspective of it as explained in his book, <b><i>The</i></b> <b><i>Great</i></b> <b><i>Work</i></b> <b><i>of</i></b> <b><i>Your</i></b> <b><i>Life</i></b><b><i>—</i></b><b><i>A</i></b> <b><i>Guide</i></b> <b><i>for</i></b> <b><i>the</i></b> <b><i>Journey</i></b> <b><i>to</i></b> <b><i>Your</i></b> <b><i>True</i></b> <b><i>Calling.</i></b><br /><br />Dharma, as described by Kathy, immediately fired my imagination. It seems to be a more roomy, holistic notion than "purpose." One's dharma is what you are called to in life -- acting from your sacred duty or your true self.<br /><br />I used Kathy's list of questions to guide me as I journalled about my dharma. From this process, although I still cannot put into words a single calling, I realized that I have a cluster of themes or foci in my life, or a kind of interwoven tapestry of pursuits, that all point to my dharma. Since my earliest childhood and throughout my life, creative art and writing have been persistent elements in my thematic tapestry.<br /><br />I had a whole day with nothing scheduled. I didn't even have to cook. I decided that it would be my day for going into my studio and painting. &nbsp; <br /><br />After journalling about my dharma, there was still most of the day left. So I did a deep clean of the ensuite bathroom. I even scrubbed every centimeter of the shower tiles down on my knees with a scrub brush.<br /><br />That went so well that I decided to assemble the shoe rack that I purchased two weeks ago. I set it up and filled it with shoes that had been stuffed in bags since the move.<br /><br />Then I moved on to the last remaining moving box tucked away in a corner of the bedroom. I unpacked it, found homes for everything, and neatly smoothed out and rolled up the packing paper for reuse.<br /><br />By now it was mid afternoon. I had not even entered my studio. I was hungry, so I made myself some lunch. While eating lunch, I re-read the chapter of Brene Brown's book <i><b>Braving the Wilderness</b></i>, in which she talks about writing yourself a permission slip.<br /><br />Why was I avoiding painting? I love painting, and feel happy and fulfilled when I do it. I have set up a nice painting studio right in my house. Why couldn't I make myself paint?<br /><br />I couldn't use my old excuse of not having enough time.<br /><br />And, by the way, why have I been avoiding working on my novel? I had to put it aside in December for a bit because everything related to Christmas made things really busy. But now January's almost over. Why am I not working on it again?<br /><br />This is always my battle with creative pursuits. Once I start, I am fine. But I fight the muse and find all kinds of reasons and distractions to not get started in the first place. I have often used external structures to trick myself into starting -- things like NaNoWriMo, signing up for weekly classes, or promising to submit something on a certain date thus creating a deadline.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NCdm-NgaFHE/Wmj_b4Qy9QI/AAAAAAAAA98/PhHJzkaiyig37l0uAd2lDx5Razeqzw11gCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NCdm-NgaFHE/Wmj_b4Qy9QI/AAAAAAAAA98/PhHJzkaiyig37l0uAd2lDx5Razeqzw11gCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1686.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Composition and Colour</td></tr></tbody></table>Brown says there are two steps: 1. give yourself permission, and 2. get on the bus (do it). I wrote the two steps on a post-it.<br /><br />In the late afternoon, I went downstairs, not to my studio but to my office. I put the post-it beside the computer. Then I turned it on and began to work on <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2017/11/why-i-enjoy-writing-fiction.html" target="_blank">my novel</a>.<br /><br />Hello old friend! I am so happy to be writing again.<br /><br />Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-77305630946250621762018-01-17T18:30:00.001-07:002018-01-17T18:30:09.137-07:00No Sense of Humour <style><!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Calibri; panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin-top:0cm; margin-right:0cm; margin-bottom:8.0pt; margin-left:0cm; line-height:107%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} .MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; font-size:11.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size:11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} .MsoPapDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; margin-bottom:8.0pt; line-height:107%;} @page WordSection1 {size:612.0pt 792.0pt; margin:72.0pt 72.0pt 72.0pt 72.0pt; mso-header-margin:35.4pt; mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.WordSection1 {page:WordSection1;} --></style> <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hdKEmpHsyYg/Wl_zsXz_15I/AAAAAAAAA9Q/Kx0P-jy9kzwgMfvP8hAMImpTvSOB_MOuACLcBGAs/s1600/images-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hdKEmpHsyYg/Wl_zsXz_15I/AAAAAAAAA9Q/Kx0P-jy9kzwgMfvP8hAMImpTvSOB_MOuACLcBGAs/s1600/images-2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">“She has no sense of humour.” Have you ever heard someone say that? Or, if you are a woman, you might have had a remark like that directed at you: “Where’s your sense of humour?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">If anyone has ever said that to you, I will bet that a vivid memory of the <a href="https://umbcactivism.wordpress.com/2013/02/26/its-not-just-a-joke/" target="_blank">type of situation</a> that elicited it has sprung into your mind, along with some unpleasant emotions.</div><div class="MsoNormal">It turns out that I have no sense of humour. Here is a story of an experience that reminded me of that fact.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Recently, I was at a meeting of a community organization. I am thrilled to be getting to know my new community, and have been reaching out and meeting people through a number of different venues. Although I am new to these different groups because we have just moved to the area, I have found people to be pleasant and welcoming. It has been interesting and fun making new acquaintances and participating in local activities that in the past I simply did not have time for. </div><div class="MsoNormal">The group of people at this particular meeting included people from diverse work backgrounds. Usually the participation is about one third female and two thirds male, with about half being retired people and the rest still working. However, on this occasion, it happened that I was the only woman present. </div><div class="MsoNormal">As everyone bustled about getting ready to start the meeting, I noticed 'Frank' approaching others in the room and showing them a piece of paper. I wondered whether it might be a recent bit of correspondence, or maybe a community announcement of some sort. Soon enough, Frank came around to my side of the room and showed the piece of paper to the person beside me. Curious, I glanced sideways to see what the notice was about. Frank adjusted the angle of the paper so it was easy for both of us to see. </div><div class="MsoNormal">It was a crude joke about women’s boobs. Frank was grinning, looking for a reaction. </div><div class="MsoNormal">I was stunned. In this time of heightened awareness of sexual harassment and sexual violence, and with all the recent media coverage of entertainment and film industry <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/10/05/us/harvey-weinstein-harassment-allegations.html" target="_blank">“big names” being called out</a> for sexual assault, how could anyone think that it was okay to pass around dirty jokes about women’s bodies? </div><div class="MsoNormal">This is not a new situation for me, of course. Being a woman who came of age in the 1960’s and 70’s, I remember that this kind of male behaviour in groups was more the norm than the exception in the past. As I often found myself in mostly male groups (because I was a skier and an active outdoors person, and because I climbed the education and career ladders to a level where women were rare), I learned to grin and bear it much of the time. I didn’t want to be tagged as a troublemaker, a prude, or someone with no sense of humour. I wanted to fit in. </div><div class="MsoNormal">I am also a lifelong feminist. Over time, I developed more confidence and began to speak out about sexist and male bullying behaviour. In one of my career positions, I initiated a sexual violence awareness campaign and led the development of a sexual violence policy in our workplace.</div><div class="MsoNormal">So how did I respond to Frank’s ‘joke’? </div><div class="MsoNormal">I would like to report that I spoke out and said, “Frank, jokes like this make me feel uncomfortable. They are not appropriate at our meetings.” I would like to say that the others in the room (all men) spoke up and supported me. But that is not what happened. </div><div class="MsoNormal">I looked at the piece of paper and said nothing.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Old habits kicked in. There was a tone of suppressed hilarity in the room that evening, and to me the dynamics felt very uncomfortable. I felt voiceless, and like the butt of the joke. </div><div class="MsoNormal">I was really angry, just boiling. I was angry at myself for not speaking out. I was angry about all of the men in the room who said nothing and let Frank get away with this behaviour. And I was angry with all the Franks of the world who feel they have the right to use sexism to put down, humiliate, and exclude others. </div><div class="MsoNormal">I tried to understand why I and the others present had behaved the way we did. </div><div class="MsoNormal">In rationalizing my own behaviour, I can say that I was a new person in this group, the only woman, and possibly the youngest, and therefore in a position of low social influence. I have been socialized throughout my life to know ‘a woman’s place,’ even though I also have fought against sexism throughout my life. As far as sexist jokes go, this particular one was quite mild, even kind of cute. I didn’t want to be seen as making a big deal about something that is trivial compared to the horror of sexual assault that so many women experience. In an uncomfortable social situation, it is easier to remain silent. I didn’t want to embarrass Frank (!!).</div><div class="MsoNormal">As far as the behaviour of the rest of the people in the room went, I wondered why none of the men had the courage to say something. Several of them are professionals for whom this sort of thing certainly would not be tolerated in their workplaces, so they must have known that it was was not appropriate. The chair of the meeting has the designated authority to manage the conduct of people at the meeting, but he said nothing. I speculated that perhaps this kind of sexist joke sharing has been the norm in this group, and if that is the case, perhaps also racist jokes. If so, why would I want to be part of such a group?&nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal">Frank is elderly and is the most long-standing member of the group. Perhaps the other men were afraid to challenge Frank because of his senior status. And then I felt mad at myself all over again for expecting the male members to speak up when I didn't have the courage to do so.</div><div class="MsoNormal">And what about Frank? Is he really so out of touch that he innocently thought the joke was funny and just wanted to share it with us? Perhaps, steeped in a lifetime of <a href="http://foreignpolicy.com/2017/12/27/2017-was-the-year-i-learned-about-my-white-privilege/" target="_blank">white male privilege</a>, he actually believes that women have no place attending such meetings, and that women in their role as wives should simply serve as adjuncts and supports to male-run groups. Perhaps this was his passive-aggressive way of putting me (and all women) in our place. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Days later, I still feel angry about it. I am still trying to decide what to do about it, because being silenced is not an acceptable option.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2iN1ucO5jRw/Wl_1ARVhf6I/AAAAAAAAA9c/dW6wctAmRLor2WYnDHJGfuF93bN2r75bQCLcBGAs/s1600/empower-yourself.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="134" data-original-width="619" height="69" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2iN1ucO5jRw/Wl_1ARVhf6I/AAAAAAAAA9c/dW6wctAmRLor2WYnDHJGfuF93bN2r75bQCLcBGAs/s320/empower-yourself.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">It's just a little thing, but if I and the other members of this group lack the courage to deal with the little things, how are we ever going to make progress on the big things like sexual assault, <a href="http://www.wavaw.ca/what-is-rape-culture/" target="_blank">rape culture</a>, the glass ceiling, and the fact that women in Canada today who are working full time <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/radio/thecurrent/the-current-for-january-10-2017-1.4479544/women-still-earn-25-less-as-canada-slips-down-global-rankings-1.4479713" target="_blank">only earn 74.2%</a> of what full-time working men earn? I am filled with admiration for women and men who have spoken out as part of the <a href="http://www.vancouverisawesome.com/2017/11/01/metoo-action/" target="_blank">#MeToo</a> movement.</div><div class="MsoNormal">But, too bad that I have no sense of humour.</div>Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-81484346713184933142018-01-10T12:46:00.000-07:002018-01-10T12:46:01.322-07:00A Grandma DayOn Sunday, I got to be <a href="https://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2017/10/what-really-matters.html" target="_blank">Grandma all day long</a>. My two little grandsons came over to our house for the day while their parents went skiing.<br /><br />Although I have babysat them a number of times at their house since moving here, and although they have been to our house many times with their parents, this is the first time that I have had them here all day. Their mom said that they were excited and eager to come stay at Grandma's house.&nbsp;<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-knQ2qumy4bM/WlZlsyCvK5I/AAAAAAAAA7A/HBmXpxQm67owqc_WtyYbwho6OZr3rdzngCLcBGAs/s1600/Caleb%2Bin%2Bsweater.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-knQ2qumy4bM/WlZlsyCvK5I/AAAAAAAAA7A/HBmXpxQm67owqc_WtyYbwho6OZr3rdzngCLcBGAs/s200/Caleb%2Bin%2Bsweater.jpeg" width="150" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We're Here! </td></tr></tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RcGWWDijF1c/WlZlyAD88YI/AAAAAAAAA7E/lhuefu7MgssliAMZa_MbrqmOTkdz28_EgCLcBGAs/s1600/Elliott%2Btalking.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RcGWWDijF1c/WlZlyAD88YI/AAAAAAAAA7E/lhuefu7MgssliAMZa_MbrqmOTkdz28_EgCLcBGAs/s200/Elliott%2Btalking.jpeg" width="150" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at This, Grandma!</td></tr></tbody></table></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We started the morning right. Grandpa made his signature pancakes (yup, Aunt Jemima). Both little boys ate many, many pancakes.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xv3ocdhZoFQ/WlZn5zerH2I/AAAAAAAAA7Q/1ZM5XROWR3EBkc1_h66aouB3euRAljMkwCLcBGAs/s1600/Pancakes.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xv3ocdhZoFQ/WlZn5zerH2I/AAAAAAAAA7Q/1ZM5XROWR3EBkc1_h66aouB3euRAljMkwCLcBGAs/s320/Pancakes.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mmm, Pancakes </td></tr></tbody></table>It was a windy, stormy day, so we stayed indoors rather than venturing out. The weather was a bonus on the ski hill -- lots of fresh powder for my daughter and son in law!<br /><br />We coloured and drew pictures (art for my fridge), read stories, played with LEGO and Grandma's toy stash, and played with stickers. The younger grandson was very pleased that he had his own little bed to sleep in when nap time came (a fold-out cot that I set up in the spare bedroom).<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WM8OWRDdYVw/WlZoZilzdRI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/LL6zLGXf7X84PWhciAekAocXQLCqZAW2ACLcBGAs/s1600/Colouring.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WM8OWRDdYVw/WlZoZilzdRI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/LL6zLGXf7X84PWhciAekAocXQLCqZAW2ACLcBGAs/s320/Colouring.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colouring and Drawing</td></tr></tbody></table>Another big hit of the day was baking cookies. Actually, licking the beater and spoon at the end of the cookie-making was the part that the boys enjoyed the most. They also really liked eating the chocolate chip cookies, after they cooled off. A tin of cookies went home with them at the end of the day to share with Mommy and Daddy.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JKusCZT__dg/WlZovnaSmFI/AAAAAAAAA7c/ov6sDf-iZxc8W5GG5jje9vVMXO5Qqmq9QCLcBGAs/s1600/Spoon.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JKusCZT__dg/WlZovnaSmFI/AAAAAAAAA7c/ov6sDf-iZxc8W5GG5jje9vVMXO5Qqmq9QCLcBGAs/s320/Spoon.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Licking the Bowl</td></tr></tbody></table>&nbsp;Their uncle spent lots of time in the afternoon playing with them. They adore their uncle!<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QqSizvxaojw/WlZpJSEqH-I/AAAAAAAAA7k/P8NLh2wHPIUR8pzuzvqK6DjHiwZX4tT5wCLcBGAs/s1600/Uncle%2Breading.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QqSizvxaojw/WlZpJSEqH-I/AAAAAAAAA7k/P8NLh2wHPIUR8pzuzvqK6DjHiwZX4tT5wCLcBGAs/s320/Uncle%2Breading.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p7C1LFKABO4/WlZpOk_hhxI/AAAAAAAAA7o/kV15rbElonguSBukSYi2c1jjPQZPu6yBQCLcBGAs/s1600/Uncle%2Bplaying.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p7C1LFKABO4/WlZpOk_hhxI/AAAAAAAAA7o/kV15rbElonguSBukSYi2c1jjPQZPu6yBQCLcBGAs/s320/Uncle%2Bplaying.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Having Fun With Their Uncle</td></tr></tbody></table>Everyone had a terrific day -- Mommy and Daddy at the ski hill, the two boys at Grandma's house, and Grandma, Grandpa, and Uncle. Even our dog, Kate, was totally delighted to spend the day with my grandsons.<br /><br />The previous weekend, I went with my grandsons and their parents to the Tube Park at the ski hill. It was fun, and the boys loved it.<br /><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cW9Cun7flv8/WlZpyDIkE7I/AAAAAAAAA70/fzIsgdnL0tkxcNEKv1NOyvMx5JY-ISqcACEwYBhgL/s1600/Boys%2Btubing.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cW9Cun7flv8/WlZpyDIkE7I/AAAAAAAAA70/fzIsgdnL0tkxcNEKv1NOyvMx5JY-ISqcACEwYBhgL/s200/Boys%2Btubing.jpeg" width="150" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready to Go</td></tr></tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ilGWdzV3Oxk/WlZps5-7X2I/AAAAAAAAA7s/3zdLm_POHNA3wzEmvaGtMBE7Sj3xXosjACLcBGAs/s1600/Tubing%2Bfamily.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ilGWdzV3Oxk/WlZps5-7X2I/AAAAAAAAA7s/3zdLm_POHNA3wzEmvaGtMBE7Sj3xXosjACLcBGAs/s200/Tubing%2Bfamily.jpeg" width="150" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the Magic Carpet</td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Yesterday, Rob, my son and I had our own ski day. We couldn't have timed it better. We had sunshine and fresh snow. <br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AjfAV81PSjo/WlZrNTu5IzI/AAAAAAAAA8A/5wq5LGtbcsQHO4zw4ZXcJ_pg-lO-DZT5gCLcBGAs/s1600/Ski%2BDay.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AjfAV81PSjo/WlZrNTu5IzI/AAAAAAAAA8A/5wq5LGtbcsQHO4zw4ZXcJ_pg-lO-DZT5gCLcBGAs/s320/Ski%2BDay.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy Skiers</td></tr></tbody></table>Retirement is awesome! I can't even remember why I was so worried about it. Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-42389822116191227932017-12-22T00:23:00.000-07:002017-12-22T00:23:14.822-07:00Mental Illness and Families<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QaJVyIlnkug/WjyxlCM7hrI/AAAAAAAAA6c/TVfeVjPnb_Y1XGYlUKJBAj0HXFs8kvCAgCLcBGAs/s1600/christmas-banner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="1600" height="77" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QaJVyIlnkug/WjyxlCM7hrI/AAAAAAAAA6c/TVfeVjPnb_Y1XGYlUKJBAj0HXFs8kvCAgCLcBGAs/s400/christmas-banner.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br />During the holidays, we tend to focus our energies and blog posts on the positive aspects of celebrating with friends and family. Yet, Christmas can be a difficult time as well, remembering loved ones who are no longer with us, or feeling sadness or guilt about those friends or family members whom we have lost touch with. Christmas can be especially difficult for individuals and families struggling with mental illness.<br /><br />In one of my former career roles, I was involved with creating a welcoming environment to help students flourish on campus; setting up systems and services to help support students struggling with addiction and mental health issues; and promoting open discussion about mental health in an effort to reduce stigma. It was important work, and I believe that those initiatives have made the post-secondary experience better for many students.<br /><br />But what I would like to write about today comes from a more personal perspective. As with most of us, mental health issues have impacted my life because of illnesses experienced by members of my family, and by close friends and their families. I would need more than my ten fingers to count the number of family members or close friends who have struggled with depression, anxiety, or both. This is not surprising, as depression and anxiety are extremely prevalent in our North American society. Other mental illnesses include schizophrenia, psychosis, personality disorders, and eating disorders.<br /><br />The <a href="http://www.camh.ca/en/hospital/about_camh/newsroom/for_reporters/Pages/addictionmentalhealthstatistics.aspx">Centre</a> for Addiction and Mental Health reports that:<br /><br /><ul style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: repeat repeat; border: 0px none; color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; margin: 0px 0px 0px 2px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 15px; position: relative;"><li style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: repeat repeat; border: 0px none; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px;">In any given year, 1 in 5 Canadians experiences a mental health or addiction problem.</li><li style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: repeat repeat; border: 0px none; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px;">By the time Canadians reach 40 years of age, 1 in 2 have – or have had – a mental illness.</li></ul><br />Although depression and anxiety are the most commonly reported mental illnesses, and especially prevalent among young people between 15 and 24, substance abuse often goes hand-in-hand with mental health struggles. In my extended family, over the past ten years we have lost two young adults to addiction related deaths. These were smart, successful, personable, well-loved young people. Being loved, and having supportive families and partners, were not sufficient to protect them from substance misuse that ultimately led to their deaths. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pl-8Om5SBlI/WjywFGbWANI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/8fqPAGtSBl06XzDyAM-RRgL7Sto0G__GwCLcBGAs/s1600/dims.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="420" data-original-width="630" height="265" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pl-8Om5SBlI/WjywFGbWANI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/8fqPAGtSBl06XzDyAM-RRgL7Sto0G__GwCLcBGAs/s400/dims.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">International Overdose Awareness Day in Vancouver, BC, August 2017. Photo credit: The Canadian Press/Darryl Dyck, retrieved from <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.ca/2017/11/09/opioid-crisis-over-1-100-people-have-overdosed-and-died-in-b-c-in-9-months_a_23272693/" target="_blank">Huffington Post</a> </td></tr></tbody></table><br />I believe that it is important to speak openly about mental health matters, and to encourage people to seek appropriate help rather than being ashamed about their illness and hiding it. I believe it is important to support each other and to recognize that mental illness is an illness, not a willful behaviour or lack of individual strength. De-stigmatizing mental illness helps people reach self-acceptance and develop strategies to stay healthy, and helps families and friends to behave in more understanding and supportive ways. Increased awareness about mental illness also is the first step toward addressing discrimination within our workplaces and other social organizations.<br /><br />in the last decade, great strides have been made in enhancing awareness about mental health. There is excellent research being done, and better support and services at universities, colleges, and through government provided social services. Organizations like the <a href="https://cmha.ca/" target="_blank">Canadian Mental Health Association</a>, the <a href="http://www.camimh.ca/" target="_blank">Canadian Alliance on Mental Illness and Mental Health</a>, and <a href="http://www.heretohelp.bc.ca/" target="_blank">here to help</a> serve as portals to information and services. Online "self-serve" resources are increasingly available, such as the info sheets and tool kits provided by <i>here to help</i>. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7WcGdvkuXJQ/Wjyu29aZbRI/AAAAAAAAA6E/NND1HpUrG346KwG9VYpoht0l-tLA5sYDQCLcBGAs/s1600/cmha-banner-7-960x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="960" height="125" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7WcGdvkuXJQ/Wjyu29aZbRI/AAAAAAAAA6E/NND1HpUrG346KwG9VYpoht0l-tLA5sYDQCLcBGAs/s400/cmha-banner-7-960x300.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image from Canadian Mental Health Association:&nbsp; https://cmha.ca</td></tr></tbody></table>&nbsp; <br />However, we still have a long way to go. There simply aren't enough services available to help everyone adequately, as can be seen in the current <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.ca/2017/11/09/opioid-crisis-over-1-100-people-have-overdosed-and-died-in-b-c-in-9-months_a_23272693/" target="_blank">opioid crisis</a>, and the high levels of <a href="http://homelesshub.ca/about-homelessness/topics/mental-health" target="_blank">homelessness</a>.<br /><br />Very often, families are left to struggle on their own to cope with a family member's mental illness or addiction, or to deal with the aftermath of an addiction death or suicide. With many types of mental illness, such as schizophrenia or dementia, the person with the illness shows little self-awareness. They may not recognize that they have an illness. They may have paranoid delusions about family members or health professionals who try to help them, and resist the assistance. They may refuse medication or counselling.<br /><br />People who are deeply depressed, self-harming, manic, addicted, or delusional can be difficult to be around. A family member in a helping role may feel helpless and anxious about whether their loved one will find ways to survive and thrive, and to overcome or live with their condition.<br /><br />Similarly, people struggling with a mental illness may try to hide it from family and friends because they don't want them to worry, or they don't want to be a burden. However, speaking about the issues openly can help to relieve the pain of keeping it bottled up. It can help family members understand, reduce their anxiety, and enable them to provide better support.<br /><br />One of my hopes in this Christmas season is that each of us reaches out in some small way to someone we know who is struggling. Whether we provide a listening ear, make a phone call, send a card, donate to support mental health research, or make a point of including someone in the festivities who otherwise might be on their own, each one of us can add a little cheer in the Christmas season.<br /><br />In British Columbia, Canada, the province-wide Crisis Centre phone number is 1-800-SUICIDE (1-800-784-2433). The <a href="https://crisiscentre.bc.ca/" target="_blank">Crisis Centre</a> also provides an online crisis chatline and a youth chatline, as well as a number of free services for parents and families.<br /><br />Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-60250617399393742992017-12-09T22:48:00.002-07:002017-12-09T23:30:21.068-07:00Berlin!<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D9s5yEHAReY/WiynPf7mB3I/AAAAAAAAA3w/CxcHhRawt-EdOWTZhSHrswENF-qS1KPfgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1377.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D9s5yEHAReY/WiynPf7mB3I/AAAAAAAAA3w/CxcHhRawt-EdOWTZhSHrswENF-qS1KPfgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1377.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amazing art on the walls of buildings all over Berlin. This mural was across the street from our B&amp;B.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />As a person who grew up during the years of the cold war, I was fascinated with the story of <a href="http://www.history.com/topics/cold-war/berlin-wall" target="_blank">the division of Germany into East and West Germany</a>. Berlin, located behind the border of East Germany also was divided into three western controlled sectors and one Soviet controlled sector, East Berlin, with West Berlin accessible via road and rail corridors and by air. Berlin was also the place where Hitler and Eva Braun spent their last days in the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/F%C3%BChrerbunker" target="_blank">Fuhrerbunker</a>, and of course it is one of the great cities of the world. Although I have travelled to Europe several times, I had never made it to Berlin.<br /><br />So when Erica and I discussed where to travel after the <a href="http://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2017/12/film-festival-in-germany.html" target="_blank">film festival</a> in Hanover, it was obvious to both of us that we must go to Berlin. She has exhibited her work there before, and knows some people in the online art world and film industry in Berlin. Whereas I was especially interested in the history, the art galleries, and also the chance to connect with my niece, who is currently living in Poland.<br /><br />My first morning in Berlin, I went on a Cold War Berlin walking tour. Our guide, Pip, a historian, was wonderful. The <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Berlin_Wall" target="_blank">Berlin Wall</a> (das Mauer) stood from 1961-1989, dividing East and West Berlin. During those 28 years, people were not allowed to pass from East to West, and access for West Berliners to the eastern part of the city was limited. The Berlin Wall began to be spontaneously dismantled by residents of East and West Berlin on November 9, 1989, following an announcement (possibly erroneous) by an East German official that people were now permitted to to cross from East to West freely. Reunification of Germany took place in 1990, after the Wall fell.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GZcGWaZrS6M/Wiy5BXb3LAI/AAAAAAAAA4A/CPtD9dht5xo8TTLWpt2ZlDhmAOEYtZovgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1331.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GZcGWaZrS6M/Wiy5BXb3LAI/AAAAAAAAA4A/CPtD9dht5xo8TTLWpt2ZlDhmAOEYtZovgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1331.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A small section of the Berlin Wall remains standing at Bernauer Strasse</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pbR3v7CVzak/Wiy5HT40cII/AAAAAAAAA4E/sVjR3nmUk6w_vEO2Lb-ZcZhcRy9cTlRYwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1321.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pbR3v7CVzak/Wiy5HT40cII/AAAAAAAAA4E/sVjR3nmUk6w_vEO2Lb-ZcZhcRy9cTlRYwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1321.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brandenburg Gate (Brandenburger Tor) was in the neutral zone along the Wall.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YXyLs_Kxwy4/Wiy5M2cF2iI/AAAAAAAAA4I/x6XPNX-O97c47iTE5Woq3fGRaFXGPTbrwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1330.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YXyLs_Kxwy4/Wiy5M2cF2iI/AAAAAAAAA4I/x6XPNX-O97c47iTE5Woq3fGRaFXGPTbrwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1330.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A memorial to 57 of the people who died trying to cross into West Berlin, including children and a baby.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />We visited the Tranenpalast (Palace of Tears) at Friedrichstrasse. This border crossing at a rail station was where West Berliners who had applied for a visitor's visa passed through for 24 hour visits to East Berlin. Checkpoint Charlie on Friedrichstrasse was the only border crossing that foreigners were allowed to use to enter East Berlin.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z0AzpQ22u_Q/Wiy8w_hG_4I/AAAAAAAAA4U/Vm1DJjDoBawwobOj-Acz0H_BPC2iQmRIQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z0AzpQ22u_Q/Wiy8w_hG_4I/AAAAAAAAA4U/Vm1DJjDoBawwobOj-Acz0H_BPC2iQmRIQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1339.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This famous photo of an East Berlin border guard escaping by leaping over the barbed wire Wall (before the concrete wall had been erected) appears on the side of a building near the Berlin Wall Memorial.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yWASzltakYY/Wiy92InJiYI/AAAAAAAAA4g/eudqbiA_MEMUPMdX7l9LvoqBItIa9KGPwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1334.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yWASzltakYY/Wiy92InJiYI/AAAAAAAAA4g/eudqbiA_MEMUPMdX7l9LvoqBItIa9KGPwCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_1334.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reconciliation Sculpture: "The sculpture created by the sculptor Josefina de Vasconcellos is a call for reconciliation following the devastation of the Second World War. Copies exist at sites that were deeply affected by the war: in the Coventry Cathedral, in the Hiroshima peace museum -- and in the former border strip at the Berlin Wall."*</td></tr></tbody></table>We spent most of our time in the part of Berlin that used to be East Berlin. One morning I went for a walk to see Karl-Marx-Allee. It is a wide boulevard flanked with apartment buildings that the socialist government in East Berlin built as a "workers' paradise."<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N4zjnBlJ7fI/WizAu5ozooI/AAAAAAAAA4s/DYDn1De5zwsJ6JwnsPQ20Bo1qswpRPjCQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1388.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N4zjnBlJ7fI/WizAu5ozooI/AAAAAAAAA4s/DYDn1De5zwsJ6JwnsPQ20Bo1qswpRPjCQCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_1388.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Karl-Marx-Allee</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xRM97drVFxw/WizBJfKmihI/AAAAAAAAA4w/tsUL8q59Q4YeCz_VZUYYD3MF9QiXwG_CQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1345.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xRM97drVFxw/WizBJfKmihI/AAAAAAAAA4w/tsUL8q59Q4YeCz_VZUYYD3MF9QiXwG_CQCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_1345.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hackescher Markt S-Bahn (train station)</td></tr></tbody></table>Of course, during our visit we did more than visit historical sites. We went for a Thai massage. We went to a Christmas market. There are more than 60 of them in the city of Berlin alone! We had a wonderful visit with my niece and her boyfriend, who travelled all the way from Warsaw to meet up with us. We went out for dinner to many great, not too pricey restaurants. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2XQSOhHbu4U/WizC4T67xMI/AAAAAAAAA48/tgO0bM9T1Ts2JgO2U7b6VcsGhCADgZ5mACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1370.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2XQSOhHbu4U/WizC4T67xMI/AAAAAAAAA48/tgO0bM9T1Ts2JgO2U7b6VcsGhCADgZ5mACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_1370.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Out to dinner for Wurst und Bier with Laura, Marcin, Erica, and a Berlin friend.</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MnvnuqH-iPA/WizDaYhyfgI/AAAAAAAAA5E/FN3sHhwsvZ8Y2RhvgCWmZwbEJMKiXMy9ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1376.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MnvnuqH-iPA/WizDaYhyfgI/AAAAAAAAA5E/FN3sHhwsvZ8Y2RhvgCWmZwbEJMKiXMy9ACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_1376.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Christmas Market</td></tr></tbody></table>We also went to several galleries/art shows. We attended a fabulous art show by <a href="http://carlagannis.com/" target="_blank">Carla Gannis</a> at the DAM Gallery. She uses augmented reality and self images. Her body of work provides a fascinating commentary on the human/technology interface in contemporary culture. We attended an art opening featuring work by five photographers, which I found distasteful -- definitely not a style of photography that I appreciate. However, it was an interesting opportunity to people watch, as the "cool" people of Berlin milled about in their finery, trying to be noticed.<br /><br />I spent a happy half a day in the <a href="http://www.smb.museum/en/museums-institutions/alte-nationalgalerie/home.html" target="_blank">Alte Nationalgalerie</a>, one of five art museums on Museum Island, a UNESCO Heritage site. I spent most of my time looking at the collection of Impressionist and Post-Impressionist paintings, as well as the Rodin special exhibition. (I love the Impressionists.) My photos are not adequate to capture what I saw.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DnD8JIFEbLk/WizHUWuSmbI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/7CK2G48ScZYPOZEuMwDd91lEuEi2CjZYgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1351.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DnD8JIFEbLk/WizHUWuSmbI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/7CK2G48ScZYPOZEuMwDd91lEuEi2CjZYgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1351.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A beautiful blue dome</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MwDFJ4ltjfQ/WizHrkv-PAI/AAAAAAAAA5U/s09Qei1CsCoTm3lAgKP5XpMRQH7qRs-XQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1357.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MwDFJ4ltjfQ/WizHrkv-PAI/AAAAAAAAA5U/s09Qei1CsCoTm3lAgKP5XpMRQH7qRs-XQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1357.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Thinker, by Rodin</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xl1mA4PIO0s/WizHsjYypgI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/j342agrX8-UPaXvWb45cSEKUd8lz2XYTwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1358.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xl1mA4PIO0s/WizHsjYypgI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/j342agrX8-UPaXvWb45cSEKUd8lz2XYTwCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_1358.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Renoir</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WI-B4GnBNVA/WizIBhNdUOI/AAAAAAAAA5g/z6Yv6K9W_kkmaCzYqwU0r4rFXnYJ1n31ACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1362.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WI-B4GnBNVA/WizIBhNdUOI/AAAAAAAAA5g/z6Yv6K9W_kkmaCzYqwU0r4rFXnYJ1n31ACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1362.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking out the main entry door of the Alte Nationalgalerie</td></tr></tbody></table>We were only in Berlin for five nights and we did a lot. Erica's schedule was even busier that mine; I have a greater need for sleep. But why sleep in Berlin, when you can catch up on sleeping during the flight home?<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zcMnqQASeOw/WizItEfLRSI/AAAAAAAAA5o/yGeZfAFCqB4pt29efWU80T9SzeKgECgpACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1394.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zcMnqQASeOw/WizItEfLRSI/AAAAAAAAA5o/yGeZfAFCqB4pt29efWU80T9SzeKgECgpACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_1394.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Catching ZZZ's in the airport</td></tr></tbody></table>It was a fantastic trip, and I am so glad that I went.<br /><br />*Caption in English posted beside the Reconciliation SculptureDr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-78362541150043371522017-12-04T01:39:00.001-07:002017-12-04T01:52:13.737-07:00Film Festival in Germany<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b2IRk8GD86Q/WiT0Db0UCbI/AAAAAAAAA1s/A5b-8tXrk8wfri7ZmzS9_6vYMz-et61dgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1396.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b2IRk8GD86Q/WiT0Db0UCbI/AAAAAAAAA1s/A5b-8tXrk8wfri7ZmzS9_6vYMz-et61dgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1396.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With my daughter, Erica Lapadat-Janzen</td></tr></tbody></table>&nbsp;So, if it seems as if I have been a bit absent from my blog lately here’s why. I have been travelling in Germany. <br /><br />My daughter is a net artist and also works in art design in the film industry. She was invited to present one of her short films at an international film festival in Hanover, Germany, the <a href="http://festival.up-and-coming.de/index.php?id=829&amp;L=1&amp;type=0" target="_blank">Up and Coming</a> Film Festival. And lucky me -- I got to come along! We went on a mother-daughter trip, with the first part of the trip in Hanover at the film festival, and then we went Berlin for a few days. So exciting!<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QDwGt2Gmmo4/WiUEfHsrHXI/AAAAAAAAA3I/dYRCiFmMjSkSyjsSro8Hshzh8YjjfBbQgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1303.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QDwGt2Gmmo4/WiUEfHsrHXI/AAAAAAAAA3I/dYRCiFmMjSkSyjsSro8Hshzh8YjjfBbQgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1303.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Up and Coming Film Festival</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9GIcYHIyGhY/WiUFILn2nbI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/vI3qh9hdkLowHmiNcHV2OL8p5pSpqA5NACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1294.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9GIcYHIyGhY/WiUFILn2nbI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/vI3qh9hdkLowHmiNcHV2OL8p5pSpqA5NACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1294.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Erica Lapadat-Janzen</td></tr></tbody></table><br />This film festival features young film makers from all over the world. With only 167 films selected from over 3,000 submissions, it was exciting that Erica's film was one of the two presented from Canada.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZDwekwulXGA/WiT3U3aCdrI/AAAAAAAAA2E/9REz-YWoeM8QBvESM5dUcLRhg-uAhPTyACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1397.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZDwekwulXGA/WiT3U3aCdrI/AAAAAAAAA2E/9REz-YWoeM8QBvESM5dUcLRhg-uAhPTyACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1397.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br />As it turned out, Erica's film was scheduled as a headliner film, screened as part of the Opening Ceremony. I had a proud mommy moment as I sat in the theater and watched her film, and then again as Erica was invited up onto the stage to speak about her work. She did a fantastic interview.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hIJb_Xt23lY/WiT5LYu4VSI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/4aHxRNBLSkYdXpaE1ToY1SazMCcimHHcQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1274.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hIJb_Xt23lY/WiT5LYu4VSI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/4aHxRNBLSkYdXpaE1ToY1SazMCcimHHcQCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1274.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Erica Speaks About her Work</td></tr></tbody></table>&nbsp;As a guest of one of the young film makers, I had a festival pass for the four days. It was really fun watching the films, which included a wide range of genres: narrative, action, documentary, animation, experimental, and so forth. The talent of the young film makers was astounding, and they did not shy away from taking on difficult topics and world issues.<br /><br />As an example, one memorable documentary, <i>Ici, personne ne meurt</i> (<i>Nobody Dies Here</i>), showed the plight of gold miners in Benin, Africa. Another film that really made an impression on me was <i>Terrorist</i>, one of the films in the German section. It addressed how easily blame for a terrorist act can be misdirected, and the terrible consequences for family members who are left behind. Another film that I'll mention here, one of the winners in the international section, was <i>Parallel</i>. The title of this&nbsp; U.S. film references the division of the Korean peninsula at the 38th parallel. The film maker, Jiwon Choi, interspersed interviews with her grandfather, who served in the Korean War, with clips showing the rise of Korean pop and commercialism. Of course, there were many additional amazing films, including some excellent short animations and some 360 degree films. <br /><br />We had some adventures getting to Hanover. We barely made our connection in Frankfurt because there is a lot of construction going on at the airport. We had to disembark our flight way out on the tarmac and be bused to the terminal, clear customs, and run to our gate (through a very big airport). We were among the last to make it to the gate, then we were bused out to the plane which also was parked far from the terminal. Although we just made the connection, our luggage did not. (It eventually arrived the next afternoon.)<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5gY6_pQ2yXQ/WiUCHa15m3I/AAAAAAAAA2w/1-v7T2At9XspE7P9T3EZN27xEIhesNLSACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5gY6_pQ2yXQ/WiUCHa15m3I/AAAAAAAAA2w/1-v7T2At9XspE7P9T3EZN27xEIhesNLSACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1246.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We Barely Made Our Connection</td></tr></tbody></table>We stayed in a cool "Euro-style" hotel -- which was not surprising seeing as we were in Europe! Breakfast was included. I love European breakfasts. The spread included cold meat, cheeses, smoked salmon, yogurt, fruit, many nice breads, jam, as well as eggs and other hot foods, and cereal. My breakfast beverage of choice was Klein Milch Kaffee. Coffee and beer are better in Germany.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BtSth6ewL04/WiUECotxomI/AAAAAAAAA28/1d08Af4lyNQ3Wu3qlA6G58n1OU_kEXt0wCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1254.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BtSth6ewL04/WiUECotxomI/AAAAAAAAA28/1d08Af4lyNQ3Wu3qlA6G58n1OU_kEXt0wCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1254.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View From My Hotel Room</td></tr></tbody></table>We ate at nice restaurants, including a Bavarian schnitzel restaurant and a couple of great Italian restaurants. I had been brushing up on my German in preparation for the trip. Unfortunately I am nowhere near fluent, but the bit of German I knew was helpful from time to time. However, most people we met spoke English much better than I speak German. Erica did lots of networking. I continued working on my novel, and managed to write another 58 pages during the ten-day trip.<br /><br />I tried to write blog posts while I was there, but had technical issues. I was unable to upload photos to Blogger from my phone or tablet, which was frustrating. I had to wait until I was back home, where I could send the photos from my phone to my computer, and then upload them.<br /><br />After Hanover, we went to Berlin, a city that I have long wanted to visit. More about that in another post. <br /><br />Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-28847294427642416062017-11-13T11:29:00.002-07:002017-11-13T16:36:00.482-07:00Why I Enjoy Writing Fiction<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YTYGjybrmoo/WgoidovALDI/AAAAAAAAA1E/cdG2oMYhZsoNrjcE2KdrJDSuqnJfc5PrgCLcBGAs/s1600/Shield-Nano-Blue-Brown-RGB-HiRes.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1236" data-original-width="847" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YTYGjybrmoo/WgoidovALDI/AAAAAAAAA1E/cdG2oMYhZsoNrjcE2KdrJDSuqnJfc5PrgCLcBGAs/s320/Shield-Nano-Blue-Brown-RGB-HiRes.png" width="219" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image used courtesy of National Novel Writing Month</td></tr></tbody></table>November is National Novel Writing Month, aka <a href="https://nanowrimo.org/press" target="_blank">NaNoWriMo</a>. This year, hundreds of thousands of people from around the world are toiling at their computers trying to write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. That works out to writing an average of 1,667 words a day every day for thirty days.<br /><br />I am one of them.<a href="http://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2016/11/too-much-writing.html" target="_blank"> Last year</a> I participated in NaNoWriMo as well. I started a new novel, a <a href="http://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2016/12/novel-in-progress.html" target="_blank">post-apocalyptic tale</a> about a group of women who have survived in an underground shelter for eighteen years after the global collapse of society. I continued working on it throughout last December and January. Then I set it aside, and did some other things, like <a href="http://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2017/03/dust-is-us.html" target="_blank">renovations</a>, <a href="http://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2017/05/tulips-with-mind-of-their-own.html" target="_blank">selling a house</a>, <a href="http://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2017/05/anxiety-attack.html" target="_blank">buying a house</a>, <a href="http://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2017/09/why-angst-about-retirement-dr-sock.html" target="_blank">retiring</a>, and <a href="http://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2017/07/big-changes-are-happening.html" target="_blank">moving</a>. This November, I decided to pick up on writing the novel from where I left off, 50,000 words and 13 chapters into it.<br /><br />I have been spending hours on it every day. (That is why I have been neglecting my blog.) I am a slow writer. I do not write the way the NaNo website suggests — just flinging words onto the page without worrying about sentence structure, cohesion, or flow. I write carefully, rereading and editing as I go. I build the story brick by brick. That way, when it comes time to go back and revise the first draft, I will have something solid to work with, rather than a mess that seems overwhelming.<br /><br />I am really enjoying writing this novel. I spend my days in a fog, preoccupied by thinking about my characters and their trials and tribulations. Then when I sit down at the computer, the story just spools out of me.<br /><br />Why do I love writing fiction so much? It is a good question in this era of the self-narrative, when autobiographical writing, or memoir, or autoethnography is so popular. After all, in memoir, the plot has already happened; you don’t have to make anything up. You have a ready-made story. “This is what happened to me.”<br /><br />Well, autobiographical writing has a couple of big challenges. Although autobiographical writing, such as memoir, is about the self, every person is embedded in a social context. Therefore, when you write about yourself, you are also writing about people close to you. It is easy to offend, or to disrespect others' privacy. That can be hard, especially when you are in an ongoing relationship with those others that you would like to maintain, or when the things you are saying are negative.<br /><br />If you write innocuous things about other people, perhaps this issue of privacy is less of a problem, but bland accounts of past experiences do not tend to make very interesting reading. People like to read about conflicts, where there is a villain and a hero, and challenges are faced and overcome. There can be a real temptation to spice up the truth a bit, to add a bit of drama. But in memoir, as <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Art-Memoir-Mary-Karr/dp/0062223062/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1510613508&amp;sr=8-1&amp;keywords=the+art+of+memoir+by+mary+karr">Mary Karr</a> says, writing the truth is the fundamental rule that you must not break.<br /><br />So this is one of the reasons that I love to write fiction. I can make my fictional characters as nasty or as foolish as can be, without the risk of alienating someone in my real life. In fiction, I don’t have to leave out the embarrassing bits to spare someone’s feelings. Really, those juicy details are what make the story. <br /><br />Another thing about fiction is that you can make the plot do whatever you want. You are not constrained by the history of events as they actually happened, and therein is the true joy of fiction. You get to use your imagination to invent whatever strange world your creative self can envision. You can work out the complexities of your protagonist’s personality, and toss one crazy challenge after another at them, just to see how they behave. <br /><br />When you write fiction, you pose the question “What if?” What if a group of women lived in a shelter in tunnels and basement rooms under the ruins of a shattered university while lawless gangs roamed through the destroyed city scavenging for material goods? How would this character behave if she was spurned by her lover? What ethical choices would that character face when torn between following the rules of the collective or helping an outsider?<br /><br />Ultimately, that is the great value of fiction. You can put yourself into someone's circumstances and try to understand how they might think, feel, and act in that situation. Through fiction, you can acquire a deeper empathy for someone unlike yourself. Through fiction, you might just get a little closer to uncovering a truth of human experience. And, most of all, writing fiction is fun!<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hDS7384D2nE/WgojAcDl03I/AAAAAAAAA1M/fkxXs5KwTGkqXPkmrLUNV1OW2_Sq1DG8QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1211.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hDS7384D2nE/WgojAcDl03I/AAAAAAAAA1M/fkxXs5KwTGkqXPkmrLUNV1OW2_Sq1DG8QCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_1211.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where I Write</td></tr></tbody></table><br />By the way, if you are a <a href="https://nanowrimo.org/how-it-works" target="_blank">NaNoWriMo</a> participant and you would like to find me, I write under the pen name AnnaHarvey, and my current novel is called <i>The Age of Grandchildren</i>. Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-88522284964254494612017-10-30T19:44:00.001-06:002017-10-30T19:47:30.100-06:00Family, Small Towns, and Fall FairsI grew up in a small Canadian town. As a child, I loved that little town and fully intended to live there forever. But my story turned out differently.<br /><br />I had aspirations to go to university. Looking around, as an adolescent, it was clear to see that there were not many career opportunities in my small town, especially for women. Going to university meant leaving my town to move to a big city far away.<br /><br />After leaving to go to university, I came back to my home town for a few summers, but I never lived there full-time again. I became qualified in a profession that did not require living in a large city to obtain employment, but by that time, there also was my my husband's career to consider. Finding satisfying work for both of us ultimately meant choosing to live in larger centers.<br /><br />Later, I made a career switch and was fortunate to find a great position in my new field. I relocated to a mid-sized city within driving distance of my home town. A decade later, I moved even closer, and lived in a small city only 200 kilometers away.<br /><br />During all these years, several of my family members have continued to live in the little town. So I have returned again and again to visit, celebrate Christmas, go skiing, go hiking, and attend the Fall Fair.<br /><br />The Fall Fair is an annual highlight that takes place in the late summer. Although I have attended similar fairs in other places, there is no Fall Fair quite like the one in my town. Recently, I attended the Fall Fair again.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XEfeEEymIP8/Wd20j0nx8sI/AAAAAAAAAzA/oWdLWYfrFukFtPtp6SJXgZq_loatVaNqACK4BGAYYCw/s1600/IMG_0614.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XEfeEEymIP8/Wd20j0nx8sI/AAAAAAAAAzA/oWdLWYfrFukFtPtp6SJXgZq_loatVaNqACK4BGAYYCw/s400/IMG_0614.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fall Fair Parade</td></tr></tbody></table>The Fall Fair starts with a parade. The weather always seems to be terrible during Fall Fair week. This year we went early to get good seats on the curb to watch the parade, and found ourselves shivering in a cold wind. Someone made a run back to the house to get blankets and warm sweaters, and even so, we were thoroughly chilled off before the last tractor and dancing cow had meandered up the main street of town. <br /><br />The next day, my young nieces were exhibiting some of their animals in the 4-H events. The whole family got involved in leading the sheep to their stalls in the sheep barn. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vPKPS2wA5PM/Wd20xxeQ-1I/AAAAAAAAAzI/zr3rha8d7FIwluEefhZKyrELqgu0xcQGQCK4BGAYYCw/s1600/IMG_0631.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vPKPS2wA5PM/Wd20xxeQ-1I/AAAAAAAAAzI/zr3rha8d7FIwluEefhZKyrELqgu0xcQGQCK4BGAYYCw/s400/IMG_0631.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Preparing for the 4-H Sheep Event</td></tr></tbody></table>There were two large buildings hosting the agricultural and handicraft exhibits. My mom and I strolled up and down the long tables examining the tomatoes and zucchinis; the homemade bread, biscuits, pies, and brownies; the homemade wines and jams; and the flower arrangements. When my dad was still alive, he always entered his homemade wines and usually came away with several ribbons. This is one of the first years that my mom, now in her eighties, has not entered her homemade jams and jellies.<br /><br />We also spent a long time admiring the art categories. One of my brothers and my sister in law won ribbons for their photography, and my brother and both nieces won several ribbons for their art. I recalled entering my own paintings and drawings in the Fall Fair when I was a child. I also used to enter flowers from my own little garden during my teen years. <br /><br />We ate perogies and sauerkraut, and corn on the cob and fries. We spent time hanging out at the barns enjoying a brief period of sunshine. Rob said that sitting around in the hay barn was his favourite part of the fair!<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2mR0qKnplFY/Wd203bWqFVI/AAAAAAAAAzQ/Rz984IiB_l8Ag4NdRkCRYyMo8xtf9Gw-wCK4BGAYYCw/s1600/IMG_0632.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2mR0qKnplFY/Wd203bWqFVI/AAAAAAAAAzQ/Rz984IiB_l8Ag4NdRkCRYyMo8xtf9Gw-wCK4BGAYYCw/s400/IMG_0632.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Robby Hayseed</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-loppdJ8GoIk/Wd208IkXT4I/AAAAAAAAAzY/iPupouQxD9oYKqwdaEhoKrMD4KY45VGWACK4BGAYYCw/s1600/IMG_0634.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-loppdJ8GoIk/Wd208IkXT4I/AAAAAAAAAzY/iPupouQxD9oYKqwdaEhoKrMD4KY45VGWACK4BGAYYCw/s400/IMG_0634.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Uncle Hayseed</td></tr></tbody></table>Later on, there was a rodeo, and we cheered for my sister in law's younger brother as he rode the bucking bronc. And of course, the kids were thrilled about going on the circus rides and eating cotton candy.<br /><br />I am grateful that I have family who still live there. I can go back year after year, and feel as if I still have a foot in my hometown. There is a wonderful sense of continuity of the generations that I sometimes miss, having chosen instead to lead a more transient life. <br /><br />Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-60999328253365975842017-10-22T00:39:00.004-06:002017-10-22T00:48:01.154-06:00One Small Action<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eBnitVIXl7o/Wew1sTWOGqI/AAAAAAAAA0c/lR4updSJz7cjb6zqwPb0xNGiHGonXuwWgCLcBGAs/s1600/salmon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eBnitVIXl7o/Wew1sTWOGqI/AAAAAAAAA0c/lR4updSJz7cjb6zqwPb0xNGiHGonXuwWgCLcBGAs/s400/salmon.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spawning Sockeye*</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><b>Underwater Photography</b><br /><br />As we get to know our new community, we have gradually begun to participate in activities and events here. Recently I attended a talk by a noted local underwater and landscape photographer, <a href="https://www.eikojonesphotography.com/">Eiko Jones</a>. I was not familiar with Jones' work and had no idea what to expect.<br /><br />As it turned out, I was completely blown away by his fabulous photos. Eiko Jones takes many of his underwater photos in local rivers and swamps on Vancouver Island, as well as in the ocean. His story of how he obtains his amazing underwater or split screen shots is almost as fascinating as the photos themselves. Essentially, he dives down and lies on the bottom of the riverbed, sometimes for more than two hours, taking hundreds of shots to get those one or two perfect images. <br /><br />British Columbia (BC) and Alaska have one of the world's last great salmon habitats. Many of <a href="https://www.eikojonesphotography.com/underwater-salmon-photographs/">Eiko's photos</a> showed the five species of returning and spawning salmon, and young salmon fry. Lately, in order to not disturb salmon in spawning beds with the bubbles from his scuba gear, he has taken to free diving. <br /><br />I have lived in the watersheds of two of BC's major salmon bearing rivers most of my life, and am well aware of the importance of salmon to the ecology as well as to people, especially the First Nations peoples whose livelihoods depend on salmon. Eiko's photos of salmon who had fought their way back to their native stream to spawn and then die, along with his accounts of successful salmon stream rehabilitation, almost brought me to tears. Please click on the links to see examples of <a href="https://www.eikojonesphotography.com/salmon-photographs/">his photography</a>. <br /><br /><b>Elder College Public Lecture</b><br /><br />I have just discovered that there is an active Elder College program in my area. They are hosting a series of three public lectures in a nearby community centre. The topic for the speaker series is: <i>Achieving Global Sustainability: A Decent Life For All</i>. Unfortunately I missed the first talk, but I went to the second one in the series, which focused on global climate change and sustainable development. <br /><br />I am deeply concerned about climate change. An obligation that rests heavily on my shoulders, now that I have retired, is to find ways to contribute meaningfully to society, and, in some small way, to help work toward solutions to the overwhelming and urgent problems that face humanity on a global scale. Climate change is one of many huge, interrelated problems, along with poverty, overpopulation, food insecurity, violence, gender inequity, and so on. It can seem overwhelming and hopeless. How does one even know where to start? How can one person's actions make any difference in the face of such urgent and difficult problems? <br /><br />But thinking about it that way is defeatist. Trying to put pressing world issues out of mind and doing nothing does not alleviate my worrying about them because I still know the problems are there, like a monster in the closet. Having been present in Eiko Jones' talk, it was fresh in my mind how one person, through his exceptional photography, was gently educating people about ways to rejuvenate salmon streams, and why it is important.<br /><br />As I listened to the sustainability speaker, I realized a couple of things. One is that almost nothing that he said about the causes and solutions to climate change and global sustainability was new information for me. Over the years, I have been reading and educating myself about these issues.<br /><br />Another thing I realized is that many people from all countries of the world have been working for years to establish and implement global sustainability goals. In 2015, countries around the world adopted the 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development. This global agenda identifies <a href="http://www.un.org/sustainabledevelopment/sustainable-development-goals/">17 sustainability goals</a>, readily available on the United Nations website. Also in 2015, signatories to the <a href="http://www.un.org/sustainabledevelopment/climatechange/">Paris Agreement on Climate Change</a> agreed to take action to limit temperature change to a maximum of 2 degrees Celsius. <br /><br />So, in contributing my part, I am not alone. I am joining people around the world working toward a shared vision. One plus one plus one is how we get there.<br /><br />A third thing that I realized is that I have been <a href="http://gideonsockpuppet.blogspot.ca/2015/06/helping-earth-for-my-grandkids.html" target="_blank">making choices for decades</a> now to live in ways that are more environmentally conscious. In many little ways, I already have been doing things that align with the UN's 17 sustainability goals. Of course, there are many more changes that I could make. Just as people can join in one by one to work toward a shared goal, an individual can make personal changes one by one, and it all adds up. Here is a list of easy things to do: <a href="http://www.un.org/sustainabledevelopment/takeaction/">The Lazy Person's Guide to Saving the World</a>. It is a great starting point.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ML5p4B8aww4/Wew3Sa2rVaI/AAAAAAAAA0o/Z9dilqUZtlEOEqdZp4y-XJU6CITu2jg9ACLcBGAs/s1600/17-00011_LazyPersonGuide_webpage-sidebar_EN.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1125" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ML5p4B8aww4/Wew3Sa2rVaI/AAAAAAAAA0o/Z9dilqUZtlEOEqdZp4y-XJU6CITu2jg9ACLcBGAs/s320/17-00011_LazyPersonGuide_webpage-sidebar_EN.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><b>One Small Act: #globalgoals</b><br /><br />Upon coming home from the sustainability talk, I went online and read the UN's 17 sustainability goals. In doing so, I almost plunged into helplessness and hopelessness again. The problems are so big. The goals are so idealistic. 2030 is only 13 short years away!<br /><br />But then, I decided that although I couldn't solve the problems of the world today, I could do one small thing today. <br /><br />Goal 2 is to end hunger and increase food security, globally. This is one area in which we have made significant strides over the last 30 years. Although the world population has continued to rise, the absolute number of people in extreme poverty without access to adequate food has decreased. However, poor nutrition remains the biggest single cause of child mortality for children under five. For decades, we have known that the best way to improve the nutrition and health of babies and young children is for <a href="https://www.unicef.org/nutrition/">mothers to breastfeed</a>. Yet Nestle corporation continues to market baby formula and powdered milk to the poorest countries of the world, making false claims that it is a more healthy choice.<br /><br />So today, I joined the <a href="http://www.infactcanada.ca/nestle_boycott_product.htm#Canada">boycott of Nestle</a> products. This link is to the most up-to-date list I could find for Canada. It includes links to the boycott lists for the USA, UK, and Australia. I printed the list and put it on my fridge. Then I sent it to three other people. That was my one small act for today. <br /><br />*This is a free public domain photo by an unknown photographer. Follow the links to see Eiko Jones' photographs.Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2137356124184306084.post-92206897916420690352017-10-14T18:06:00.000-06:002017-10-15T00:54:22.187-06:00What Really MattersThere was a time, not so long ago, that I thought I was doing pretty important stuff. Every day, Monday to Friday, I went to my office at 8:30 am and worked very hard. I went to meetings, figured out budgets, prepared agendas, mentored staff, and developed programs. Emails about important issues dropped into my email box all day long, some requiring immediate decisions and action, and others were from colleagues outlining their concerns about initiatives, or sending project updates, or communicating about personnel situations. <br /><br />I worked so hard that I didn’t have time for lunch. I ate at my desk while reading through an eighty-five page agenda with attachments for the 1:00 pm meeting. I worked so hard that when most of the staff left for the day at 4:30, I would sigh with relief that the texts and phone calls had stopped coming in, and finally sit down to respond to the day’s worth of e-mails, or read a draft proposal, or write a report, or put together an agenda for a meeting of one of the many committees I chaired. <br /><br />I worked so hard that I didn’t have time for supper. I would eat a snack at my desk and keep on working, finally heading home around 7:30 or 8:00 pm. On my nights to cook, we didn’t sit down to dinner until 8:30 or 9:00. As I hadn’t had time to exercise during the day, aside from rushing between buildings for meetings, I tried to go for a walk each night after dinner. But often I was just too tired. I missed my friends and family, all living so far away, so sometimes in the evening I would phone them, or they would phone me. <br /><br />It was such important work. I had to give all my time to it. But, even working so hard, and even with a wonderful team who worked just as hard as me, I could never keep up with everything. <br /><br />The weekends were for catching up on life. There were chores to do, exercise (because I hadn’t had time during the week), excursions with Rob, and gardening. And of course, sometimes there were work events on the weekends too. Even when I wasn’t at work, thoughts and emotions about work issues tended to predominate. <br /><br />The work was so important. <br /><br />Except it wasn’t. Now that I have retired, I look back at the life I was living, and I realize that it was crazy. As I wrote the description above, I just kept thinking, “Really???? Did I really believe that working such long hours was my only option, or that it was a good choice?” The new me wishes I could go back in time and shake some sense into the old me.<br /><br />Stepping out of the workplace into my new retired life has been an experience of major perspectival shift. Not only do my old points of view seem foreign to me and somewhat bizarre, but I am seeing the other nonwork pieces of my life in a new way. No longer bits in the margins of my all-consuming worklife, it turns out that those parts of life are, in fact, what really matters. <br /><br />I knew that I loved being a grandma. Visiting from afar every three months supplemented by occasional FaceTime was not enough. I could not do spontaneous things with the kids, like I can now that I have retired and moved closer to family members. For example Rob and I recently visited a Naval Base open house with my daughter’s family, as pictured below. My two little grandsons were very impressed with the helicopter, navy ships, and zodiacs at the base. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SNvpFFlYpus/Wd2292XCo4I/AAAAAAAAA0A/9rCFqVSnfAELFwQhHBs0jivQaoYvWAnWQCK4BGAYYCw/s1600/IMG_0760.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SNvpFFlYpus/Wd2292XCo4I/AAAAAAAAA0A/9rCFqVSnfAELFwQhHBs0jivQaoYvWAnWQCK4BGAYYCw/s400/IMG_0760.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Captain of the Navy Vessel</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Being physically closer to my grandkids, I can sometimes do grandma duty, giving their parents a chance to get away to do something together. Even though our move did not bring us physically closer to our other set of grandkids, we now have more time to travel to their community for visits, or to welcome visitors to our place. <br /><br />One of the big surprises is how much I love being closer to my adult kids. Now it is possible to go to weekly yoga classes with one daughter, schedule a weekend in Vancouver to attend another daughter’s art show, and go for a hike on the local trails with my son. Yes, we did get together in the past too, but it always involved an airplane flight, and I was always in a state of exhaustion from work. It put a damper on spontaneity.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fSVlLsS2H3U/Wd23HvHFhdI/AAAAAAAAA0I/C0__VO06UjQYWA_Hvdx7uMRP1sxwS-HuQCK4BGAYYCw/s1600/IMG_0782.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fSVlLsS2H3U/Wd23HvHFhdI/AAAAAAAAA0I/C0__VO06UjQYWA_Hvdx7uMRP1sxwS-HuQCK4BGAYYCw/s400/IMG_0782.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fun with Auntie</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I have realized that, just as when they were younger, having time to spend with my kids is one of the things that really matters. It doesn’t always have to be a special event. It can be having a cup of tea together, playing together with the grandkids, or walking on the beach. Of course, now that my adult kids are in the stage of life where they are very busy with little time off, my greater time flexibility as a retiree is helpful for making those moments possible.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R1vGaNR08cM/Wd23MeNt9KI/AAAAAAAAA0Q/NNIllSsN6cwJ8DqnaQ_YsbZZxiWvaoNIgCK4BGAYYCw/s1600/IMG_0834.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R1vGaNR08cM/Wd23MeNt9KI/AAAAAAAAA0Q/NNIllSsN6cwJ8DqnaQ_YsbZZxiWvaoNIgCK4BGAYYCw/s400/IMG_0834.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Digging into Chocolate Cheesecake</td></tr></tbody></table><br />My family and friends are at the top of the list of what really matters. This realization does not negate the value of my work contributions over the past decades. In the future I will continue to pursue intellectual, creative, and physical/health interests and activities. In the present moment, I am grateful that I have transitioned to this new and satisfying stage of life.<br /><br />Dr Sock http://www.blogger.com/profile/13378594360241846301noreply@blogger.com19